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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23088508">Burn Up My Heels</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/frangipani/pseuds/frangipani'>frangipani</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Allegiance - Timothy Zahn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A whole bunch o' class issues, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fools in Love, Idfic, Tatooine roadtrip, don't stop believing imma fuck some characters up, hookerfic, portrait of the emperor's hand as a young girl, small town boy city girl take the frangi train going anyyyyyyywhere, the incredible awkwardness of mara jade, too much sex and too little sense, until it degrades to domestic drama</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:53:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>128,486</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23088508</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/frangipani/pseuds/frangipani</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A mission to Tatooine and a surprisingly capable guttersnipe as guide.</p><p>Well, she could do worse than an Outer Rim rent boy.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mara Jade/Luke Skywalker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>504</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>251</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Because playlists motivate me: <a href="https://teagrl.tumblr.com/post/190535199077/a-playlist-mara-jade-would-not-approve-of">this one</a> sustained me until ch 26</p><p>After ch 26, <a href="https://teagrl.tumblr.com/post/642137242549338112/tatooine-sunset-by-gimena-ferrari-treason-mara">this one</a> is the one I played the most.</p><p><br/>1. This is <a href="https://fanlore.org/wiki/Id_Vortex"> idfic</a>. Do I think Luke would become a hooker by any means? Nah. Do I want to write him as an alley hooker? Fuck yeah. As the kids say, YOLO. </p><p>2. Mara's characterization draws more than a bit from <i>Allegiance</i>, some parts of that novel are very relevant. I don't think they're particularly hard to follow.</p><p>3. Fic is finished, but rough. My limited time hasn't changed so this is minimally edited. On the attempt to make it less rough (AHAHAHA) I'm posting shorter installments. This might not take care of the wealth of plotholes, typos, and continuity errors therein. Think of it as from my drawer to yours -- complete with a big ol' hummus stain, whoops.</p><p>4. I continue indebted to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangeallure/pseuds/strangeallure"> strangeallure</a> for cheerleading and eyes on this despite her own busy schedule.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Imperial base at the outskirts of Mos Espa was more recent than those at Bestine or Mos Eisley. Barely a year old, according to what Mara had read. She supposed it looked it: thick durasteel walls shiny enough to make her squint as they reflected the suns’ glare, not yet eaten away by the sand and wind of the desert. </p>
<p>The base’s walls had risen up in the distance as the squat buildings of the port city gradually vanished, leaving the Xelric Draw’s wide mouth at the horizon. Mara had passed a sandcrawler going the opposite way -- into Mos Espa -- a few rontos, and a couple of speeder trucks, all intending to get a head start on the day.</p>
<p>However imposing the base’s walls, within there was nothing more than a bunker, smaller than it’d seemed to her from the holos -- but that was to be expected for a relatively small city such as this. As far as Mara knew, Mos Espa wasn’t the crime-infested sludge pool Mos Eisley was, but neither did it have the political value of the official capital, Bestine. The little she’d seen after arriving hours ago didn’t make it more than just another nowhere city in the Outer Rim, it's provincial claim to fame long gone once podracing was made illegal.</p>
<p>Once she approached the entrance, one of the six storrmtroopers stationed outside the bunker had barked automatically, “What is your business here?” as if she hadn’t needed basic clearance to so much as park her rented landspeeder within the base. Tensions might still be running high.</p>
<p>Mara had straightened her shoulders, knowing full well what she looked like to them -- a girl barely past her teens. If she'd worn an Imperial uniform or her combat suit, she might get a different appraisal, but this was not that kind of mission. She'd opted for a simple tunic and pants, covering her braid with a headscarf. The stormtroopers might have mistaken her for a local. She’d take it as a good sign; her cover was working.</p>
<p>Mara lifted her chin. “Commander Stansei is expecting me.”</p>
<p>A click from the vocoder. "Identification?"</p>
<p>"Recognition code Hapspir Barrini."</p>
<p>They shared a look, and she had no need to draw on the Force to read surprise in it. Another one of them indicated she should go in with a stiff gesture. He stepped beside her, boots clumping on the gravel, then on the duracrete floor as they passed the heavy main doors. </p>
<p>She fought the urge to rub her arms as the stormtrooper led her past a series of desks where comm officers did their work. Within the main garrison bunker it was downright chilly, no mean feat considering the two suns outside. It might be morning, but the desert was still the desert. </p>
<p>The stormtrooper led her to the door of a small office and gave two brisk knocks.</p>
<p>“Yes?” came the voice from inside through the door’s comm.</p>
<p>“A visitor, sir.” </p>
<p>“Come in.” </p>
<p>The stormtrooper placed his hand on the access panel and the door hissed open. A dark-haired, harried-looking human man in an officer's uniform sat at the desk, eyes on his datapad. He looked up as Mara walked in. </p>
<p>“I was sent here from the Imperial Center.” She glanced over her shoulder pointedly.</p>
<p>The commander’s brows drew together in puzzlement, but he took the hint and turned his head in the stormtrooper’s direction. “That will be all.” </p>
<p>As soon as the door shut, Mara continued, “I believe you have something that belongs to the Emperor?”</p>
<p>The commander winced. “Yes, well, information is all we have at the moment I'm afraid.” He didn’t have a local accent, Mara noted, which meant he was probably new to his post. He'd also reacted to her with considerably less surprise than she expected. It wouldn't be the first time her reputation had preceded her. “We don’t actually have the object in hand, although we have been looking, but we have been pressed for resources--” </p>
<p>Typical Outer Rim incompetence, regardless. The kind of incompetence that allowed honest-to-goodness rebel cells to proliferate. She’d expected nothing else. </p>
<p>“I require your contact list and reports for my own investigation,” Mara interrupted. “I have the initial reports, but I'd like everything.” </p>
<p>Normally she wouldn't need anything from petty bureaucrats, but communication this deep into the Outer Rim could mean that some of the more recent reports and data files might have failed to make it to Coruscant or might be incomplete. Given the critical state of things, Mara wasn't about   leave anything to chance.</p>
<p>For a second, Mara thought the commander would argue. Territorialism between Imperial officers was nothing new, and rather de rigueur back at the Core. Stansei turned back to the computer beside his datapad, tapping quickly with a nervous air. A few seconds later he looked up, “Code for the data transmission?”</p>
<p>Mara told him and felt the ensuing vibration of her datapad in her satchel.</p>
<p>“That’s what we have,” Stansei said, his tone apologetic. “It’s possible this is a wild bantha chase, but given the current climate we wanted His Majesty to know we are committed to following every lead.”</p>
<p>And they would be. One of the first things the Emperor had ordered after the Yavin disaster was not only a curfew on the whole Tatoo system, but a revamping and strengthening of the Imperial forces stationed at Tatooine. There were rumors even now, a year later, of hidden rebel cells and dissidents among the populace. It was the reason Mos Eisley continued to be under martial law, why garrisons had been established in Mos Espa and other cities that hadn’t merited a moment’s notice before, why comms on the populated parts of the planet were being monitored. There were those who argued the Empire was pouring a whole lot of credits into a planet that had nothing to offer except dissention, but a statement had to be made.</p>
<p>“The Emperor appreciates your circumspection,” Mara replied, already turning to leave.</p>
<p>"Would you require any assistance?" </p>
<p>She stopped, gave a brisk shake of her head. She wouldn’t be good at her job if she had to rely on local officials, many of which couldn’t see past their own noses. They were the reason disaster had happened in the first place. </p>
<p>"If I do,” Mara told him, hitting the door release, “I'll be in touch."</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Back at her rented landspeeder, Mara perused the data. She’d been right and the encrypted information was far more detailed than what she’d received initially...and plentiful, going back almost a year. The commander must have been really concerned with appearing helpful.</p>
<p>The contact in question was a scavenger, human, middle age, rumored to frequent a cantina near the slave quarter district. A few holos were appended to the file showing a wizzened specimen. He’d been out of contact for several weeks, so the first order of the day would be to track him down.</p>
<p>Mara started up the repulsorlifts, piloting her speeder away from the barren landscape of the outskirts and into the city proper, the way more transited now than it’d been when she first set out. It was not quite noon, but the locals had started their day early, taking advantage of when the heat was tolerable. </p>
<p>A dizzying array of smells from the pedestrian, vehicular, and animal traffic on the snarl of streets clung to the dry air. Acrid fuel mingled with animal dung, smoke, and food from the stalls and shops. Mara would close the speeder’s canopy against the onslaught, but the mechanism was faulty, a fact the Dug she’d rented it from at the spaceport had conveniently neglected to mention. </p>
<p>She followed the directions that had been listed on the documents, noting the swell in the crowds as she neared the slave quarters district, and the increase, too, in the mud and sand structures, stacked together like a whitewashed beehive. Mara made a right past a droid shop and followed the street for several blocks. A turn by a textile cart, and there it was. </p>
<p><i>Sunbrother’s Cantina</i>.</p>
<p>The cantina’s facade was unassuming, just a small doorless opening under a red awning to differentiate it from the other openings around it -- largely residential quarters, Mara assumed. She parked her speeder several blocks away and looped back to the cantina on foot.</p>
<p>Heat from the outside didn’t dissipate as she walked into the cantina’s narrow space, a sure sign their cooling unit wasn’t working well. A couple patrons sat by the counter, tended to by an aging Duros barkeep, but she easily found a seat. By midday the numbers might go up, but there were only two tables behind her. Mara assumed the cantina catered primarily to the neighborhood crowd.</p>
<p>“Water,” she told the barkeep when he turned his bulbous head towards her.</p>
<p>“Kind?”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“What kind?” he asked flatly.</p>
<p>Mara shrugged. “Whichever.”</p>
<p>The barkeep went to the back bar..</p>
<p>“I would recommend C-38.” Mara turned to see a red-skinned Devaronian female, spacer from her clothes, her helmet beside her on the counter, the two black spots on her forehead blatant. “Comes from the moisture farms out west far from the Dune Sea. They got the magic touch.”</p>
<p>“Oh.” By then the barkeep had put the water in front of her. “Next time, I guess,” she told the Devaronian, taking a sip.</p>
<p>Mara snuck a more careful glance at the alien beside her.  Not her contact obviously, but she seemed chatty enough and maybe she had useful information. Mara scanned around the room on instinct. “You from here? Or just passing through?”</p>
<p>“Live here," the Devaronian said with a smile that flashed her sharp teeth. Devils, they called them, Mara remembered. "Business is good.”</p>
<p>Perhaps for a subset of the population. All of Mara’s reading had told her Tatooine was a hotbed of chaos and lawlessness. The main authority was a Hutt who, like all Hutts, cared more about profit than order. There’d been talk of removing the governor after Yavin, and that Lord Vader had supposedly paid her a visit, but as far as Mara knew the governor continued at her post, and the Hutt continued with his tail in everything, his slime too insidious to wholly eliminate.</p>
<p>The Devaronian smirked a little in response to Mara’s questioning look. “You have to know where to look.”</p>
<p>“I’m sure.” The small talk already bored Mara, but she was careful to keep it out of her voice. She’d been taught it was instructive to feign interest and let others talk. Instructors had stressed it was the best way to feel out a contact. lf this was the cantina her contact was said to frequent, she'd be a fool not to take advantage of a local's yappiness.</p>
<p>“What kind of...markets do you recommend?" Mara leaned towards the Devaronian. "I’m always on the lookout for something profitable. Only so far you can go in the Core before someone starts to pry. I was told there’s a broker who frequents this cantina...”</p>
<p>“A broker?”</p>
<p>Mara nodded. “Someone who sells rare items.” Not really accurate given her information, but it wouldn’t do to look too knowledgeable. “Name of ‘Tizzy’?”</p>
<p>The Devaronian gave her a knowing look, condescension rank in it. "I know a Tizzy, but he was as far from a broker as could be. Just some desert hermit. Why would anyone give you his name?”</p>
<p>Mara shrugged. “I was told the main cantinas would only get me tangled up with whatever Hutt was in charge, but that here I could find... independent players. For a price, of course.” She stared at the Devaronian, wanting a read on her. Mara reached out with the Force. Aliens were still difficult for her to read unless they were blaring their emotions.</p>
<p>“What kind of rare items would this Tizzy have to sell? Maybe I could help you.”</p>
<p>“Art? A relic? I brokered some of that myself at the Core.”</p>
<p>The Devaronian grunted. “Not a lot of that here.” Her wrist comm flashed and she stood up. “Excuse me.” </p>
<p>As she scurried away, Mara noticed two Rodians walk in. They took seats at one of the two tables behind her. Mara had a ticklish sensation at the back of her neck. That and the conspicuousness of their blasters put her on edge.</p>
<p>“There’s the collections the B’omarr monks had. But all that belongs to Jabba now and you don’t want to deal with Hutts,” the Devaronian continued smoothly as she slid back into her seat. “I do know someone who has a connect with Jabba’s crew, if you change your mind. You might want to talk to him. I could introduce you.” She looked at her chrono. “He should be free in a few hours.”</p>
<p>Trap, Mara thought and fought to keep still. Clearly the Devaronian was dangling this as bait. The timing with the Rodians was too suspicious. Would this be a coordinated mugging?</p>
<p>“I thought it wasn’t a good idea to deal with the Hutts.” </p>
<p>The Devaronian laughed. “Oh, you wouldn’t be dealing with Jabba. You’ll only be talking with my friend. He’s a few hours away, south. Why don’t you come with me? We can make it there by the time he’s done and you can talk to him then. No commitment.”</p>
<p>Sure thing, and end up a dead body before noon or worse. Mara fought the urge to narrow her eyes. “I’m hardly prepared to head out for a trip just like that.”</p>
<p>The Devaronian gave her a scolding look. “Listen, girl. If I’m doing you the favor of halfwaying for you, you can’t be picky.”</p>
<p>Mara forced out what she hoped was an embarrassed smile. “I’m all right, thanks. Sorry to trouble you.”</p>
<p>The Devaronian fluidly got to her feet. Mara curled a hand around her glass while the Force screamed warning. Surprise was her most valuable weapon, and she was too aware of the Rodians behind her. </p>
<p>“Come.” Mara spied the glint of a blaster, half covered by the Devaronian’s body -- though in a place like this Mara wasn’t sure why she’d bother. Who was going to put up a fuss -- the ancient barkeep? “It’ll be a quick meeting.” </p>
<p>Mara feigned a look of shock mixed with fear, gave a furtive scan around. </p>
<p>“Don’t do anything rash,” the Devaronian muttered. She beckoned Mara off to the side, keeping her blaster unobtrusive and Mara grudgingly pushed herself off her stool, walking past the counter area. The Devarionian pressed the blaster against Mara's back once they were out of the main cantina area “Down that corridor. Not as clean--”</p>
<p>Mara whirled to the left, shoving at the blaster with her shoulder, eventually trapping the Devaronian's arm at the crook of her elbow -- nothing she'd try with a professional. The blaster shot one bolt, but it'd been aiming at the wall by then and half in Mara's hand. Mara's motion had forced the Devaronian forward to a crouch, and Mara brought the heel of her foot down hard on the Devaronian's. With a cry the Devaronian's already tenuous hold on the blaster gave. Mara jumped away, keeping it trained on her.</p>
<p>“Now,” Mara told her, “you can tell me about my contact.”</p>
<p>The Devaronian took in her blaster now in Mara’s hands as she straightened up, scowling. “That’s rude, girl.”</p>
<p>“I’m an Imperial agent." She caught the surprise before the Devaronian covered it up. That much she hadn't known. Maybe it had been a coordinated mugging after all. "If I were you I’d choose my words very carefully. My contact -- the man calling himself ‘Tizzy’. He’s said to frequent this establishment. What do you know?”</p>
<p>The Devaronian laughed stridently. “Put that away before you hurt yourself. Tizzy bit off more than he could chew. Your collectible’s not for sale, your life on the other hand--”</p>
<p>More alarm from the Force as the Devaronian darted forward, and from there it was instinct to side step and fire. Her body landed on the gritty floor with a thud.</p>
<p>Loud voices and that ticklish feeling at the back of her neck had Mara dropping the blaster and running to the room at the end of the corridor. Light came in from the side -- an exit, but grated shut.  As she slashed through the metal with her lightsaber, she saw shadows approach from behind her. The Rodians? </p>
<p>Mara shoved herself out the back door into the street, her boots raising a cloud of dust. Blaster bolts rang out behind her. One glance back told her other sentients were barrelling out as if they'd been waiting. More than the two Rodians, maybe three Weequay. They definitely weren’t underestimating her now.</p>
<p>“...redhead!”</p>
<p>She sprinted to the nearest open door in the honeycombed structure, shoving her lightsaber back in her bag, barely hearing the occupant’s dismayed cry and furious scuffling towards a corner. The room was too small. This area wouldn’t be a good hiding place for long. Tendrils of her loosened hair caught Mara's eye. Blast it. She pulled her headscarf back up.</p>
<p>A few crates were stacked near the back. Mara shoved them under the opening in the wall. Had to be a window. She climbed up, hoping for the best. It was a window, grated too. Mara made short work of it with her lightsaber.</p>
<p>She’d lucked out, landing in an open-air hallway once she'd slid herself through and rushing down, avoiding a few chittering Chadra Fan. For a few seconds she strained her senses, but her pursuers were meandering elsewhere. As she ventured forward past several doors, she kept her head bowed. A set of stairs lay before her and she snuck a glance around as she went down. No one, save a human woman and two fuzzy jowled Lutrillians a few steps behind her.</p>
<p>Mara exited the stairs in time to see the goons sweep past her. She spied a food stall and ambled over, her awareness centered on the goons moving further away. </p>
<p>Focusing on their retreating presences, she barely registered what she ordered, mechanically passing her credits and grabbing the food, biting into it automatically. The sharp burst of unfamiliar spices spread along her tongue until it was all she could taste and she spluttered.</p>
<p>The vendor, an Ortolan, standing on a rickety structure to access a Clone Wars era-slooking porta-stove, laughed uproariously.</p>
<p>"Here." He handed her some blue liquid.</p>
<p>Mara grabbed the glass and chugged it down, trying to ease her agony. The drink coated her tongue unpleasantly, but at least it didn't feel like her mouth was as an inferno anymore.</p>
<p>She turned her thoughts back to her pursuers and reached out more consciously with the Force. No warning. Time to go. She pushed herself away from her plate.</p>
<p>"Hey, the rest of your dustcrepe!" the vendor called out.</p>
<p>She took to the street again. This forsaken place had nothing to recommend it. Absolutely nothing.</p>
<p>Her pursuers gone, Mara focused on retracing her steps to the speeder. Once back at her ship she’d be able to regroup and figure out what to do about her missing contact. It was, in spite of everything, a promising sign that the Devaronian had recognized the name, but her claim that he'd bit off more than he could chew seemed alarming. Was she too late? Would it all be a dead end?</p>
<p>Halfway back to her speeder, she sensed she was being followed. Again. </p>
<p>Not the other goons. The feeling didn't have that tingling that alerted her to danger, but that could change just as it had at the cantina. An individual, not a group. That could also change.</p>
<p>At least she was now in an area with more movement, beings hurrying to and fro to escape the punishing noon suns. The mass of mud and sand hovels had begun to morph into larger synstone buildings with domed roofs, darkened alleys between them. Mara needed to get back to her speeder, but dealing with her tail took precedence. Did they have some relation to the Devaronian and her goons? It made sense they would, but reaching out it was still one individual. If it was just one, she could question them.</p>
<p>Fingers curling over the release of her holdout, she ducked between buildings and took cover behind a waste bin.</p>
<p>She didn't have to wait long. The figure was slighter than she expected, not that much taller than her, a human male with sun-bleached blond hair and the deeply tanned skin of a native. As far as she could tell, he was unarmed. Not that she’d give him a chance to prove her wrong.</p>
<p>Mara jumped out, using her momentum to shove him into the wall. He let out a pained grunt when his back hit the stone, but she was already throwing her left forearm across his windpipe. With her right, she dug the muzzle of the holdout into his stomach.</p>
<p>“You have thirty seconds,” she hissed, raising her head, “to tell me who you are and why you’re following me.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Easy," he choked out, lifting his hands slowly. "I don't mean...harm."</p><p>She dug the muzzle of her holdout further into his abdomen. "Then why are you following me?" </p><p>"Because the Mad Dewbacks are," the man choked out. “Could you--”</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"I'll explain," he wheezed. “Just...” He made a small gesture at her arm currently shoved against his Adam’s apple.</p><p>"No, you're explaining right now. Who are the Mad Dewbacks?"</p><p>"Gang,” he bit off. “Controls...this area."</p><p>Gangs. Another stellar feature of Tatooine. The Hutts were known to allow them as long as they scraped together tribute. Mara felt her lip curl. </p><p>"Rivals of your crew?" she offered sardonically.</p><p>The man made an expression of distaste as he shook his head. He was about her age -- features soft enough to tilt more to boyish despite the angle of his jaw, his cleft chin and a smattering of faint scars under his eye and cheekbone, an impression aided by hair that reached halfway down to his ears, complete with bangs. He was dressed in the kind of cream homespun tunic human settlers wore. From up close the make was thin and worn. Cheap. Still no warning came from the Force so Mara removed her arm from his neck. She did keep her blaster by his stomach.</p><p>"No,” he coughed a little, hand raising up to rub at his throat, “I don’t have a crew. When beings start to die in a sector it's a good idea to find out why. No one wants to be caught in a gang war." He focused on her, and she noticed his eyes were the clearest blue she’d seen. “But you’re not from here and they’re chasing you. I thought that was strange.”</p><p>Mara frowned. If he had seen her who else had? “Since when have you been following me?”</p><p>“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know -- but could you--could you not point the blaster at me?”</p><p>Still no alarm from the Force, but she still couldn’t keep from seething, “I was here less than thirty minutes before someone tried to attack me. If you think I’m an easy mark I’ll show you how wrong you are.”</p><p>“I told you I’m not with anyone.”</p><p>“Who are you? What do you want?”</p><p>He laughed -- a bit nervously, Mara thought. She supposed it was to be expected if you had a blaster shoved at your gut. “Elek. Elek Josi.”</p><p>Lie.</p><p>She wrinkled her nose, but none of her usual danger sense had so much as twitched, despite the lie. Someone looking to con her then, not hurt her.</p><p>"I go by El," he continued.</p><p>But...no lie there. Mara narrowed her eyes. “And what do you want?”</p><p>“Right now? That blaster pointed somewhere else.” He paused, a hopeful look on his face.  </p><p>With a disgruntled sound, she pulled back the holdout and took a half step back, scanning him over for any sudden movement. When he lowered his hands she saw his left had some strange markings on just above his knuckles. She’d seen them in the holos of Tatooinian culture.</p><p>“You’re a prostitute,” she blurted out.</p><p>He tilted his head, expression neutral. "I do a lot of things.”</p><p>Yeah, she was sure. Mara lifted her chin. “How long have you been following me?”</p><p>“Since the cantina.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“The Mad Dew--”</p><p>Lie. Mara raised her eyebrows. “Try again.”</p><p>He paused. “I saw you asking for Tizzy. He was found dead yesterday. Rumor has it the Mad Dewbacks did it.”</p><p>Dead. By the gang. The Devaronian had said as much, hadn’t she? Mara mentally filed the information away.“And you’re scared of this signaling a gang war? You’re lying and I’m losing my patience.”</p><p>The man fell silent again. “Before he was found he’d been bragging to everyone he’d made a deal for more credits than anyone can dream of. Type of credits he said he was going to get is more than we usually see around these parts.”</p><p>Mara leaned forward slightly. “And?”</p><p>He shrugged. “I wanted to know what he’d been selling. And you were looking for him, right? That’s what the Dewbacks said anyway.”</p><p>She flashed him a puzzled look.</p><p>“I overheard them talking about a rich outlander. Tizzy was a scavenger, finder,” he went on. “You don’t make that much from it. Good ones can maybe scavenge their way to a meal a day, that’s it. The credits Tizzy said he was going to get could grant him entrance to one of the casinos on Mos Espa Way. It's...a lot. So he must have found something important, something worth all those credits to someone.”</p><p> Ah. “That’s what you want. Credits to gamble?” Simple enough to be vulgar.</p><p>He kicked at the gravel at his feet and shook his head, an odd gesture that seemed self-conscious. “Not to gamble. But credits, yeah.”</p><p>“You’re a prostitute, not a scavenger.”</p><p>He lifted his head, radiating impatience all of a sudden. “I told you. I can do lots of things -- mechanics and repair, piloting, some scavenging.  You name it and I can probably figure it out.” He paused. “Mos Espa isn’t exactly an easy city for an outlander to maneuver in.”</p><p>Evasive. Mara felt her brows draw together.</p><p>He leaned back on heels a bit, gravel crunching under his boot. “I want to get out of here,” his voice had gone strained before he leveled it off, “You’re a bounty hunter, right? Whatever Tizzy promised you I can find. I know my way around.”</p><p>“I’m not--” Wait. It was probably best he assume she was a bounty hunter -- and a guide <i>would</i> make things easier. She’d picked up all sorts of allies often enough in her missions, some from more unsavory corners than others. </p><p>Mara scrutinized him further. If he had other skills why would he wear a whore’s ink?  “Piloting, you said -- what exactly?” </p><p>"A T-16 is what I learned on, but those controls are easily generalizable.”</p><p>She felt another sharp smile coming on. A T-16? That didn't even sound like a ship. “According to what?”</p><p>“The manual," he replied flatly. "Basic controls not that different from a Z-95. They would be -- Incom made both. But speeders, swoops, whatever.”</p><p>Fine, she'd let that slide. “And repair?”</p><p>“Class two droids.”</p><p>She flashed him an unimpressed look. Class two was broad, including droids that specialized in spaceship and enviro tech. “Specifics.”</p><p>“Binary loadlifters. Treadwells, I can program and maintain with my eyes closed,” he added grudgingly. “The rest shouldn’t be a problem either.”</p><p>“And how exactly does a prostitute get all that skill set?”</p><p>He laughed, a pained sound this time. “Have you looked around? Anyone who does one thing alone doesn’t last very long here.”</p><p>“Tatooine, Home of Generalists,” she scoffed, but holstered her holdout. “If I were to hire you -- as a guide -- how much exactly are you asking for?”</p><p>He didn’t miss a beat. “Nine hundred credits.”</p><p>It took some effort to school her expression. She’d had meals more expensive than that back home. But wait -- "Are you contracted to anyone?" She wasn’t wasting time dealing with some greasy go-between.</p><p>“No,” he said, his jaw clenched. “I work for myself. I want the credits for a transport out of here,” he went on defensively. “And something left over for a start. I’ll make it worth your while. Like I said, what I don’t know I can figure out.”</p><p>Mara pursed her lips. “All right that’s what you’ll do. What won’t you do?”</p><p>His eyes cut away. “Spice and that sort of thing is the easiest way to get strung up -- I don't like that. And I’m not killing anyone, period.”</p><p>Mara frowned at the last. “In my business it’s not unusual to get shot at. I don’t like working with anyone who doesn’t shoot back. Makes them a target. I don’t need that.”</p><p>“That’s different.”</p><p>She raised an eyebrow, but really if there was anyone dispensing justice it’d be her, not a hired lackey.</p><p>“You won’t regret it,” he told her, the eagerness in it almost making her wince. Maybe it was just that straight-forward here. “I’m a good shot too. I can watch your back.”</p><p>“I can watch my own back,” she shot back. “What I <i>don’t</i> need is a bodyguard.”</p><p>“Right. A guide, you said. I know Mos Espa. Tell me what Tizzy was going to bring you and I’ll find it. You can pay me then.”</p><p>Not even asking for half up front? Again, she barely kept the surprise off her face. Was that a Tatooine thing? Or was he just that desperate?</p><p>He extended a hand. “We have a deal?”</p><p>She took it. “All right. Nine hundred, payable after services rendered. Whatever I deem necessary. Any objections after the conditions you stated make this agreement null. You have any issues that come up -- we discuss them." She lowered her voice. "Double cross me and I’ll vape you.”</p><p>He nodded as they shook. “What do I call you?”</p><p>“Arica.” Mara looked around the alley. “Jannisih.” The canopies between the buildings obscured the suns, but the heat still felt more oppressive, if that was even possible. She needed to get back to her ship and regroup. </p><p>Josi was staring at her expectantly. That was the downside to hiring someone -- having to play nanny. “I’m going to get back to my ship while the worst of the day passes.” She turned towards the opening of the alley into the main street, smoothing out her headscarf.</p><p>He fell into step beside her as she exited the alley, lowering his voice as he asked. “What was Tizzy going to get from you?”</p><p>Mara weighed it before replying, “A relic. Something with religious value.” The less he knew upfront the better; she still wasn’t sure he could be trusted.</p><p>They wove around a group of humans who'd dismounted from their eopies and were leading them down the crowded street by hand. “Wait, you don’t know?”</p><p>“I don’t procure objects for myself.” It was a convincing story -- one she’d used maybe once or twice. “I procure them for a client and it’s their prerogative if they want to tell me what I’m getting or not.”</p><p>“What if it’s a sham?”</p><p>Mara threw him a glare. Why was he questioning her? “Not my problem. My job is to meet with the designated contact and get my client what they want.” Not that far off from what she really did, actually. She tempered her annoyance as her speeder cane into view. "The job will take a few days. Go get what you think you'll need and meet me back on my ship at docking bay three-eleven along Mos Espa Way. You can tell me about this Tizzy then."</p><p>--</p><p>Drenched in sweat and dust, Mara made her way back to the docking bay. Closeness to noon meant the streets had thinned out, beings all hiding from the sun. Being at the docking bay provided no relief. It felt just as hot inside as it was out, the air trapped within the closed up space. </p><p>Once she got back to her ship she powered up the cooling unit from her enviro controls and changed to a sleeveless tunic. She'd just settled in when the security system let her know Josi had arrived. That had taken less time than she’d expected.</p><p>He had a small bag slung over his shoulder. "A JumpMaster?” he muttered looking up to where she stood at the end of the gangway.</p><p>She raised her head to look at him with a curt nod. He knew her ship model? A JumpMaster wasn't exactly common. She herself hadn't seen one before she was given the ship for this mission. The hyperdrive wasn't as fast as she would have liked, the ease of modifications made up for it, she'd been told, but modifying ships -- outside of emergency maintenance -- had never been part of what she'd been tasked.</p><p>"I've never been inside one.”</p><p>"Don't make yourself too comfortable. It's best if I stay away from the ship until the job's done." She led him to the small lounge area and went for a ration bar and some water before taking a seat on the circular couch and fishing her datapad out. She typed up a short report and encrypted it, while nibbling on her bar.</p><p>Josi was still standing somewhat awkwardly, his eyes on her with more than a bit of curiosity. Or maybe not on her. The ration bar. She lowered her ration bar, wondering how these contracting situations worked here. Had that even come up in the overviews she’d studied? Just how much was she supposed to play patron?</p><p>"There's more of these if you're hungry," she said with a wave of her hand to the small conservator at the end of the lounge, the box of ration bars on top. "Some mealpacks you can put into the pulse oven if you like. And water. Help yourself."</p><p>He went towards the conservator she saw him reach for a ration bar and the water bottle somewhat hesitantly and sat on the floor as he came back. Mara went back to her messages as he ate. Nothing caught her eye and she skimmed over the morning’s files.</p><p>Finally, she put the datapad down. “You know of inns? Somewhere where sentients won't be in my business. Coming back here is risky given this morning. I rather be based somewhere else."</p><p>He nodded, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I know of a couple of places."</p><p>"Good.” She leaned forward, her hand under her chin. “So what do you know about this Tizzy? Who did he spend his time with?"</p><p>"Scavengers tend to be loners,” he said, a pensive note in his voice. “I don't even think he lived here, probably out in some hut out by the ends of the Xelric -- the canyon that surrounds the city. Came to Mos Espa to trade and gamble like the rest of them.”</p><p>“Who’d he trade with?”</p><p>“Anyone who’d buy from him. There’s a few places that accept scrap heap or old ship parts around the marketplace, some around the old arena.”</p><p>Mara frowned. Unhelpful.</p><p>Unease flickered on Josi’s face. There was an optimistic note when he said, “But you said he had something religious to trade?”</p><p>She recalled the Devaronian at the cantina. “Someone mentioned monks -- B’omarr, is it? Their art now belongs to the Hutt in charge here?”</p><p>“The B’omarr monks? There’s the B’omarr Flats where they had their monastery, I guess, but that’s not close. It's Jabba’s now -- and Tizzy <i>could</i> have gotten stuff from there.” He thought for a moment. “Religious artifacts are not the usual kind of thing scavengers sell though, and if it were something that could be confused with scrap, Jawas would beat them to it.”</p><p>She was pretty sure what her contact was selling wasn’t scrap. “And you’re sure the Mad Dewbacks murdered him?”</p><p>“That’s what people say.”</p><p>Mara rubbed at her temple. "They would have it then," she murmured. "But why not offer to sell it to me on the spot instead of a more elaborate trap?"</p><p>Had the gang known the buyer would come back? The Rodians had shown up <i>after</i> she’d mentioned her contact. </p><p>"Maybe they thought you had muscle in wait too," Josi offered. "It'd be expected from an outlander."

</p><p>Mara humph'ed. Should she work on these Mad Dewbacks, see what she could shake out of them? The gang <i>could</i> get her the answers she wanted, but that seemed a little too blunt a path to take. A more circuitous approach might be good for the moment -- her new hire gave her that luxury.</p><p>She focused on Josi. “Was the cantina the only place he spent his time at? You say he was a gambler. Where, mainly?”</p><p>He nodded. “Place called <i>Second Twilight</i>. More like a den, pretty popular. By slave row.”</p><p>Mara pulled up the files she’d gotten that morning. Had that been documented?  No. Her skimming didn’t find anything. She looked up. “That’s where we’re going tonight. You said he was running his mouth, right?”</p><p>He stared at her for a second. “The Mad Dewbacks are still after you. It won’t take them long to find you if you go to the <i>Second Twilight</i> and start asking questions. Like I said, it's a pretty popular spot this side of the city.”</p><p>Mara smiled thinly. "Oh, don't worry." He had to earn his keep somehow. “I won’t be the one asking the questions.”</p><p>--</p><p>She'd used the remaining time to dye her hair a nondescript brown. Josi waited, offering information to whatever she asked when she was done, a brief history of the Mad Dewbacks, the rumors of Jabba's move to Mos Eisley, the recent skirmish between spacers and a Tusken army. She didn't ask about his background and he didn't offer anything. He didn't ask about hers either.</p><p>As she piloted her speeder through Mos Espa’s serpentine streets, Mara reflected that hadn’t noticed how close the slave quarters were from the Grand Arena, the all-but-abandoned podracing stadium. Apparently it’d been a hub of activity before the Clone Wars, but now that podracing had fallen out of favor due to its illegality, the hulking edifice over more of those cluttered mud and sand structures was just another sign of how far Mos Espa had fallen into irrelevance, even as an Outer Rim nowhere.</p><p>The <i>Second Twilight</i> carried that air, a little sordid, mostly just down and out; it was nothing like the Coruscant casinos Mara had visited. The facade itself, dust spackled and crumbling with dead-eyed Gamorrean bouncers at the door, wasn’t exactly welcoming. Inside, cigarra smoke permeated every crevice, thick clouds of it approaching fog. The dirty and dented slot machines created a grating cacophony of high bleats and beeps. </p><p>As a rule gambling dens and casinos were the predilection of beings who liked to lose credits. At least the ones Mara had been to gave their patrons a sense of glamour while doing it.</p><p>The <i>Second Twilight’s</i> clientele clearly didn’t mind the stink of smoke, nor the screeching machines. It was only mid-afternoon, and the place bustled with locals in their wrinkled off white and brown tunics, a dark-clothed spacer adding novelty here and there, but clearly in the minority. The waitstaff was sentient -- probably because sentient labor was cheaper than droids here.</p><p>“This is Hutt-run, isn’t it?” she whispered though it was obvious.</p><p>He nodded. “All of Tatooine is.”</p><p>Slaves, she decided, or close to it. A Hutt wouldn’t pay full price if they could help it. Mara spied several other sentients with marks on their hands similar to Josi’s. Twi’lek females, but a closer scrutiny of the crowd revealed some humans as well, male and female. The humans seemed to be young, too young. At that age range it should be illegal to be part of the flesh trade. Mara's thoughts wandered uncomfortably over to Josi. How young had <i>he</i> been when he started?</p><p>But those questions were outside the scope of what she had to do here. She strode over to a table in the cantina area. Her mission had nothing to do with contemplating Outer Rim depravity. </p><p>She felt the looks on her and Josi and pushed off a rippling uneasiness. It was a cover. Nothing more. What did she care if some provincial lowlife thought she’d hired out a prostitute? She’d played hijacker before when infiltrating the BloodScars, which was worse, all things considered. A cover was only a cover.</p><p>A human server flitted over with a winning smile, her strawberry blonde hair loose about her shoulders, clothing way too form fitting with garish winding golden designs. “Welcome to the <i>Second Twilight</i>. What would you like?” </p><p>When she raised her datapad to take Mara’s order, Mara saw she too wore the marks on the fingers of her left hand. She squinted at them wondering if they were the same patterns at Josi’s. Were those of the Twi’leks? Or was there some difference between gender, species? The documents hadn’t gone into too much detail.</p><p>“Water for me and my friend,” Mara told her after a moment, lifting her eyes, and thinking back, added, “C-38.”</p><p>The server tilted her head and gave her another saccharine smile. “Right away, Miss.”</p><p>Josi was staring at her. What -- did he have some preference for blasted <i>water</i> now that she'd have to accommodate? Mara met his gaze with a sharp, “What?” </p><p>“<i>She’s</i> contracted by the casino,” he said matter-of-factly. “So she’d probably charge you double what I did.”</p><p>It took her a second to register what he was saying and then she felt her face heat up. She scowled over it. “I’m not interested. At all.”</p><p>“Oh,” It was Josi’s turn to look flustered. “I didn’t mean --”</p><p>Mara shook her head and made a disgusted sound. As she scanned the crowds at the various tables, the waitress came back and placed the glasses in front of them.</p><p>“Go ask who talked to this Tizzy. See if there’s talk about what happened to what he was selling,” Mara ordered after the waitress had left. “I’ll stay here.” She reached into her bag for credits and passed it onto him. She felt he was surprised, and found herself grunting out, “Incidentals, don’t bet it all in one place, and watch what you drink.” </p><p>With that she turned her attention to her water. He read the dismissal, and slipped the credits inside the vee of his tunic, and finished his water. Mara watched from the corner of her eye as he started for the sabacc tables.</p><p>A Whiphid female turned her head in his direction. She called out something and he smiled an easy-going smile and responded. Mara had her usual problems reading aliens, but she thought the Whiphid was charmed. It was possible they knew each other, that he frequented a place such as this...or that this was all an elaborate con. She was in the Outer Rim, after all. But her skills <i>should</i> be enough to get a sense of whether that was the case. Nothing had raised any flags yet.</p><p>A low laugh nearby drew Mara's attention. Two tables away a Pa’lowick male suggestively patted the headtails of a female Twi’lek waitress as she placed some fizzing drink on his table. </p><p>Mara grimaced at her glass.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Two more glasses of C-38 and a few pieces of stale haroun bread later, the place had filled up, the cantina area crawling with more locals. Each wave vied with the last over which was the loudest.</p><p>Mara's own table had seen several patrons come and go. A few had tried to strike up conversations with her, but her non-committal responses eventually shooed them away.  Her danger sense hadn’t sparked, so perhaps the hair dye and tunic change had been enough to throw off the gang. They <i>had</i> seemed amateurish.</p><p>From time to time, Mara had strained to differentiate the conversations around her, but there'd been little to hold her attention. The relatively large alien clientele meant some of those interactions didn't make much sense to her. The human ones that did seemed solidly in the mating ritual category, and those were tiresome regardless of where you were in the galaxy. </p><p>Her focus had been on the glimpses she caught of Josi. Mara had seen him ingratiate himself with various gamblers of various species out in the sabacc tables, all with a smile somewhere between bashful and self-deprecating, leaning hard on his boyishness. It mostly worked; she had yet to see him rebuffed. It could have happened when he'd been out of her sight. The more packed the gambling den became, the more he floated in and out of her line of vision.  </p><p>Watching him work became more uncomfortable the longer she'd looked on, calling to mind endless moff's parties where she'd have to circle, all effusive smiles and bright chatter, hanging on this arm or another while digging for intel. She'd never been asked to leave with anyone though. And, she told herself, she wasn't asking that of Josi now, despite this technically being his trade. She didn't know why watching had started feeling acutely unpleasant.</p><p>As the hours passed, Mara found herself wondering with more frequency if he wasn’t conning her. Would he come back with some vague information and ask for more credits? So far he hadn’t, but that didn’t necessarily mean he wouldn't. He certainly wouldn't get any more from her.</p><p>More time passed, he went out of sight for a while and resurfaced by a table of a game she didn't recognize. A green-skinned Mirialan whooped as if he'd won, and draped his arm around Josi's shoulders, leaning in way too close. Josi pointed at something on the table and the Mirialan threw his head back and laughed, drawing his arm back. </p><p>How many aliens would one have to sleep with to make a living in such a wretched place? How would that even work? The idea was too distasteful for Mara to consider for long.</p><p>Not much later some band began setting up in the far corner of the cantina area from where Mara sat. A Chadra Fan on the drums, two Ishi Tib on some string instruments accompanied a wailing Kitonak. As if on cue, sentients rushed into the open floor in front, falling into whatever flailing went for dancing here.</p><p>She felt a touch at her back, restrained a flinch, and glanced over her shoulder.</p><p>Josi was there. “We should go,” he told her, close enough that his breath was warm at her ear. She didn't notice any alcohol smell on him though she was pretty sure they both reeked of cheap cigarra. “From here on in most everyone will be drunk. It can get a little dicey.”</p><p>Mara would ask more, but the idea of leaving this smoke den was appealing. But business first, she thought, turning her head. “You have something for me?”</p><p>He nodded, and she slid out of her seat. His hand settled low on her back, and it was only the casual manner of the gesture that kept her from pulling away -- that and her cover. "I'll tell you more at the inn."</p><p>Josi followed her to her speeder where she'd left their bags, his hand still at the small of her back. She ignored the chill outside; it wasn’t that long a walk.</p><p>"Where to?" she asked once she was at the pilot's seat.</p><p>"Straight down. Make a left."</p><p>She turned on the repulsors, and set out. The streets were as full as they'd been during the morning, sentients now decked in dark cloaks to ward off the evening chill, and she imagined, to blend in more with their surroundings at a district like this. Fusion lamps hung from every building facade, giving off tremulous light under the night sky.</p><p>Josi's directions led her a few streets away to a small building, domed synstone with a lit fusion lamp by the door like the others. Mara parked her speeder in the lot behind it and went in, satchel over her shoulder, her hand clenched tight on her duffel with all her weapons.</p><p>The counterbeing was a six-limbed arachnid-like Xexto male who immediately asked, “How long a stay?”</p><p>“One night,” Josi said beside her, his own bag over his shoulder, and her head turned slowly in his direction. They hadn’t talked about her schedule.</p><p>"We're not sure," she told the Xexto. "Could be more."</p><p>It was just a cover, she told herself with some chagrin. She hadn’t needed to tell the counterbeing anything. Mara felt her lips thin as the Xexto spat out a price. Automatically, Mara reached for her credits and the Xexto dropped an old style keycard on the counter. </p><p>Mara grabbed it, went in the direction Josi pointed her to, up some stairs and down a short hall with worn carpeting and a faint musty smell. He should have let her decide how long they’d stay, she thought, now disgruntled. It wasn’t his call.</p><p>She was about to mention it, but as soon as the door closed, Josi said, “Consensus is that Jabba’s people have it. But no one seems to know what <i>it</i> is.”</p><p>Mara blinked, taken aback. Promising. She turned to face him. “Jabba, as in the Hutt in charge?”</p><p>He was busy undoing his boots just a few steps from the door.</p><p>“The one who is moving to Mos Eisley. What would he want with a relic? He a collector?”</p><p>“Just moved, yes.” He looked pointedly at her boots before he put his by the wall.  “But he still keeps part of his operation here.I don’t know what he wants. Maybe to sell it to someone else. There’s some whispers that the Imperials wanted it -- well that’s what Tizzy claimed to whoever would listen. He said the Empire would pay him so many credits he wouldn’t know what to do with them, though I don’t see why the Empire would care about art objects either.”</p><p>Mara could. She knew her master as an avid collector. He’d shown her some of his art collections after she’d passed some tests. That was beside the point though. What she was after wasn’t an art object. </p><p>Josi kept looking at her boots expectantly. She gathered this was either some quaint custom or some tick, but took them off, not bothering to conceal her exasperation. As she did, Mara ran an eye through the room. It was small, no desk, just one bed, an uncomfortable chair made of some straw-like material by it, a bedside table on the other end made of the same straw-like material, and a door she assumed led to the ‘fresher. No windows and the sloping stone of the walls, gave it a claustrophobic, slightly cave-ish air. At least it seemed clean.</p><p>“There are some whispers that Jabba’s going to be moving his vaults soon too. More than whispers, actually.”</p><p>Her head snapped in her guide’s direction. “To Mos Eisley?” </p><p>“No, to a place he's renovating -- out of the place that used to be the B’omarr monastery. The one that belongs to him now.”</p><p>“So," she thought back, "Tizzy runs his mouth about finding something the Empire will compensate him for, and Jabba’s people hear about it. They tell their boss. Jabba sends one of his henchmen -- that gang -- to get it. Tizzy puts up a fuss and gets killed, the object ends up with Jabba.”</p><p>“More or less,” Josi confirmed. "<i>If</i> what I heard is right.”</p><p>“Jabba has it,” she half said to herself. “So I get it from Jabba.”</p><p>Josi looked at her oddly. “He’s not really the negotiating sort.”</p><p>She met his stare. “Chances are it’s with whatever lackeys he’s sending to move his treasures, right? He got his slime on it relatively recently. It makes sense it would be here. Question is if it would be something he’d transport with the rest of his hoard. Where is this palace anyway?”</p><p>“Several hours by speeder, but there’s nothing around there -- other than Sand People.” He added, “The desert is nowhere to be stuck at after the suns go down.”</p><p>Mara turned it over in her head as she perched on the side of the bed, dropping a hand on the coverlet, finding it rough to the touch. "Around when would the move be happening?"</p><p>"Not sure. A week? Something like that."</p><p>"You know where his headquarters here are?"</p><p>"Jabba's?" She nodded and he paused, when he spoke again there was no doubting the incredulity in his voice. "You're really going to steal from Jabba?"</p><p>"Whatever he's got doesn't belong to him anyway." She reached into her satchel for her datapad. "If it's too dangerous for you, that's understandable. I can pay you a third of the fee for the information you've gotten me so far. It’s been helpful."</p><p>"What do you mean to do?"</p><p>She wasn’t sure just yet, but that was outside of the scope of his help. Mara brought up the credit transfer protocol. "Do you have an account I can transfer credits to, Josi?" she asked, tapping in her encrypt key.</p><p>"El," he corrected emphatically. "Jabba's not like the Mad Dewbacks. They work for him. His operation is...huge. He can put a bounty on you the galaxy over."</p><p>"All right, cash credits it is." She put her datapad down, reached into her satchel for a purse, beginning to count out the amount.</p><p>"He can send all sorts of people after you --"</p><p>Mara stopped, keeping the last number in mind. She shouldn’t say anything, but to fear a crime lord in some nowhere speck far from civilization was absurd. “Who I work for has a network deeper than that Hutt’s. I don't care about Jabba or whatever lackeys he has, Josi.” </p><p>He shook his head at her. "That's crazy. And I go by <i>El</i>."</p><p>She stood up and offered the credits to him. "This should be enough."</p><p>He was scowling at her. "You're going to get yourself killed. You don't even know the desert. Or Jabba."</p><p>It was easy to shrug off. "You don't know what I know."</p><p>He made no move to take the credits. "Ever been caught in a dust storm? Did you know most navigators won't mean shavit in some reaches of the Jundland? The magnetic anomalies of the desert throw them off. And I'm sure you're capable, but Sand People attack in groups. Large groups."</p><p>Mara went back to the bed, left the credits on the table before climbing on. "Like I said, you don't know what I know." Picking up her datapad, she added, "Why should you care anyway? You can't be wanting full price for this."</p><p>"No, I just don’t like -- ” He stopped with an annoyed noise.</p><p>“What are you angling for, <i>El</i>?” she asked without looking up. “A third isn’t a bad fee for this much intel. You won’t con me out of more.”</p><p>"I'm not conning you out of anything," he retorted sharply. "You yourself said it was good information." </p><p>"Then what's all this?" She raised her eyes.</p><p>He stayed silent and after several beats: “Ten thousand.”</p><p>She let out a derisive snort. “For what?”</p><p>“To guide you across the desert, help you get whatever it is Jabba’s people have.”</p><p>Mara couldn’t help the guffaw. “I thought I was crazy."</p><p>"You are," he said matter-of-factly. "And crossing Jabba can get you killed faster than anything else here."</p><p>"You as well, I take it." She raised her eyebrows at him.</p><p>His lips tightened. "If you have that many credits to pay, I’ll be gone before he can do anything."</p><p>She leaned back slightly. That was a switch. “From nine hundred to ten thousand’s a jump.”</p><p>“It’s risky.” His jaw was tight. “Very risky.”</p><p>Mara crossed her arms over her chest. "If you agree to this you don't get to back out. Either you're in or out. Ten thousand. You don’t get to ask for any more either.”</p><p>“Same conditions as before.” He extended a hand and Mara slid herself off the bed so they could shake on it.</p><p>She moved back to the bed where she’d left her datapad, looking to bring up a map of the desert surrounding Mos Espa.</p><p>“Could I use the sonic?”</p><p>“You don’t have to ask about that,” she replied offhandedly. </p><p>For the next minutes she’d managed to give herself a refresher on the relative distances between Mos Espa and the canyon that housed it, it’s winding shape, as well as the general location of the former monastery. Now, she just had to get a sense of the type of transport Jabba’s goons would be using. Once she knew, she could start making an estimate of how much time it would take the lackeys to get there. It wasn't quite a plan, not right now. Once she surveilled his operation though, it could get there.</p><p>The ‘fresher door opened and her eyes automatically flickered over to Josi. He had his clothes folded in his hand and was clad only in pants looser than his leggings as he went to his bag and squatted to put his other clothing away. Mara's eye inched down his back to his waist. He was very tan, the kind of shade often looked down upon at court as too common, his shoulders defined without being too broad. There were several jagged marks, one just behind his right shoulder, one long one down that side, the kind a vibroknife would leave behind if the wound wasn’t properly treated with bacta. Street living souvenirs, no doubt. A mugger? A disgruntled client? </p><p>What a terrible way to get credits.</p><p>Of course back at her master’s court, there’d always been those bartering their bodies for a taste of power, but that was worlds different. Border-world families with more holdings and estates than good names were the main offenders, casting their nets for Old Core aristocrats to better their stock. </p><p>Mara’s gaze wandered to Josi’s left hand, resting atop his bag, dark ink in a weird winding design just below each knuckle. Court was much more subtle. Colonials in need of status would never blare out their intentions; there were codes of propriety. It’d be considered crude.  </p><p>Josi glanced back and Mara quickly lowered her eyes to her datapad screen. He hadn't needed to strip down. The room had a cooling unit which was working fine. It could be just a Tatooine thing, though.</p><p>Or his trade. Maybe he was used to wearing little clothing inside. Maybe even less than this.</p><p>She made herself focus on her datapad, even as she felt him still looking at her. Enough. </p><p>“I’ve sorted out some estimates for distances, but they don’t mean much if I don’t get a sense as to how Jabba’s people travel," she told him. "Are we talking a convoy? Speeder truck? How much security generally?”</p><p>“I don’t know." He stood up and came over to where she sat on the bed. He had another scar below his collarbone. She hadn’t noticed it earlier in the day. "Usually when Jabba’s people show up," he said, looking over her shoulder to the map, "everyone’s busy trying to disappear.”</p><p>Mara flashed him a sideways glance, her eye trekking up. Had she noticed the mole he had just under his lower lip this earlier too? She had noticed the faint scarring along his cheekbone. </p><p>She yanked her eyes away. He was sitting too close. Mara thought of his hand at her lower back, the assumption that it was acceptable, but also thought of the Mirialan half draping himself on him. Was the lack of personal space another Tatooine thing? She hadn’t expected her holos to be so lacking in their information on mores.</p><p>“Not pick at their credits?”</p><p>His tone darkened. “They don’t pay for anything.”</p><p>Mara let out a soft sigh. That’s what clout meant at a place like this. “Well, then we’re going to have to scope them out at home. You said he has a place here.”</p><p>“Heavily guarded.” He drew forward a little, the smooth curve of his shoulder half obstructing her view. "Your map's off."</p><p>"No, it's not." This was part of the extensive files Stansei had given her. Imperial documents were seldom wrong.</p><p>"It is," he insisted. "Mospic Gate isn't that far."</p><p>"You've been out there?"</p><p>Amusement sparked on his face as if it were a ridiculous question when he looked at her, his blue eyes bright. "I grew up here."</p><p>Mara humph'ed and closed her datapad. “Anyway Jabba's security won't be a problem, we just want to get a sense for their patterns. If your information is correct then we have time to figure out what's normal and what isn't. We’ll rent a new speeder tomorrow and just watch."</p><p>She considered it for a moment. Could be being so close to the crime lord's territory here spooked him. "You can stay at a distance," she added as an afterthought. "If safety’s a concern.” </p><p>Mara suppressed a yawn. The evening was catching up to her. Putting her datapad away, she grabbed her satchel and went to the ‘fresher. Scarcely bigger than the one on her ship, its sonic was no-frills, but it got the dust and sweat off her. It just never approached the clean feeling of washing with water.</p><p>When she came after her evening routine the light by the bed was low and she spied Josi’s form on his side facing away, the sheets half on him as if the room were cold. It now dawned on her that she hadn’t directed him to take the chair. He hadn’t assumed it either. Would she have to spell out <i>everything</i>?</p><p>The bed was big enough for two, at least, she thought rounding it to climb on the other side.  She was too tired to make a big fuss about it. Definitely too tired to go down and ask for a room with other sleeping arrangements too -- even worse, it might look too naive with her current cover. Mara hit the light switch.</p><p>It was always uncomfortable to rely on someone she didn’t know. Her instincts hadn’t raised any flags, she reminded herself. Even with LaRone and his men, she’d had her doubts for a while. They'd come through for her, and not just once -- but then again that was a different situation entirely. They'd been stormtroopers, fully committed to the ideals of the Empire, regardless of how it all turned out. </p><p>But there'd also been Tannis-- he'd been as far from that as any being could be, any help had been totally motivated by self interest, but he <i>had</i> been an ally for a time...</p><p>She felt a hand, fingertips rather, soft at the side of her neck, her skin prickled. Her hand shot back automatically, fingers closing over the ones at her neck and twisting them back before letting go.</p><p>"Ow!"</p><p>Mara had shot up to a seated position, and reached to flick on the lights. She turned, scowling, her hand over her nape. “What the hell?”</p><p>Josi stared at her in confusion as he shook his hand off.“I thought you were interested--”</p><p>“No!” she heard herself squawk and immediately evened her voice. “No. That is not why I hired you. I hired you to be a <i>guide</i>. Help. For this job. I’m not interested in anything else.” She turned away. Hadn't it been obvious?</p><p>“Oh,” he sounded mildly sheepish, not that she was going to look at him right now. “I’m sorry. I thought it was...included. I didn’t mean to--”</p><p>“I <i>didn’t</i> include it!” she snapped. Mara made herself turn down on her side with short jerky movements. “I don’t do -- no. I wouldn’t -- I'm <i>working</i>. No.”</p><p>He laughed softly, which didn’t help at all even with that faint tinge of nervousness in it. “When you asked what I wouldn’t do, I just assumed --”</p><p>“Don’t <i>ever</i> assume.” She still felt her face burning. “You’re lucky I didn’t break your blasted fingers.” She should have told him to sleep on the chair, she thought with some dismay, but now she’d look weak. Best to play it off.</p><p>“I could take the chair -- or the floor,” he replied smoothly. “If that’s more comfortable for you.”</p><p>And look like some delicate Core flower? Mara yanked the pillow towards her. He just needed to shut up. This was sufficiently mortifying as it was. “I don’t care what you do. Just don't do that again.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ah, that was a fast derail of my plans to post once a week. Anyway, a reminder: idfic, idfic, idfic.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mara looked through her macrobinoculars. She and El discovered an entrance that while not hidden, was certainly not obvious. As she watched a small armored skiff pull into it under the glimmers of Tatoo I against the bleached white of the buildings she felt even more certain this was where the group with Jabba’s treasure would depart from. </p><p>A week had passed in a whirlwind of scouting and preparations. Jabba’s place in Mos Espa turned out to be a large complex of domed synstone buildings that spanned a couple of blocks. Four Gamorreans stood guard outside the main entrance, whatever they had going in brawn offset by a near reptilian lack of intelligence. The back entrance they were watching was worse; there was no added security. The Hutt was either very confident or very foolish.</p><p>"That's the first dawn delivery?" El murmured beside her, leaning in her direction, close enough that his breath slightly ticklish by her ear, bringing back memories of his hand stroking her neck -- again. Mara fought a wince. For space's sake.</p><p>Over the days he'd gotten irritatingly distracting. It made absolutely no sense. He hadn’t touched her again, and it wasn't as if he were a stunner. Mara had associated with better looking humans at court, dark-eyed and dark haired, statuesque with skin like fine marble. She’d had overtures, even, and she was of age enough that her tutors had implied it’d be fine to accept. It would even round out her instruction.</p><p>And yet, she hadn't been able to shake off the tawdriness of rolling around some vacbrained courtier’s bed for no reason. She wasn’t curious enough to tolerate some do-nothing aristocrat putting on airs about getting to list her as a conquest. The act itself held no mystery; she’d seen her share of scarlet holos and knew roughly what it all entailed. When it became part of a mission she’d put herself through it. Otherwise, it was frivolity, only with more bodily fluids.</p><p>"Looks that way." Mara leaned back for more space, passing El the macrobinoculars. Over the days, she’d noticed his hands were rougher than she’d expected for someone getting credits from the flesh trade. </p><p>Enough. She narrowed her eyes at the skiff entering the complex. While a smallish model, it remained an eyesore in the streets of Mos Espa and its maneuvrability or lack thereof during normal hours would make it a headache to pilot in the crowded streets. In spite of those issues, the heaviness of this kind of transport made it the kind of thing brought in to be used to ferry special cargo. Mara was counting on what she was seeking to be in the group of objects being moved. If that were the case, this would be as straightforward mission as she'd had in a good while.</p><p>Mara didn't wish for a more complicated mission, but her wandering thoughts were getting to be too much. She wouldn’t even be thinking of prurient things if El hadn’t touched her like that a week ago. It wasn't him though. They might share the bed, but there was enough space between them to be acceptable. No, it was the reminder of all those suggestive invitations. She didn't regret turning them down. More would be waiting when she returned to court, and she'd turn those down too.</p><p>That wasn't worth thinking about, though.</p><p>She added, "Seems to be what they'll use. Anything look off to you?"</p><p>Despite the relative discretion in their sleeping arrangements, El <i>did</i> touch her. Nothing that felt intimate at the moment, a hand at her upper back or arm to call her attention. Mara had meant to scold him for it -- there were norms for personal space -- but something else would take precedence, whatever he’d been meaning to show her, whoever they'd been tailing, and she’d forget until the next time it happened. </p><p>Mara was beginning to suspect he himself didn’t know he was doing it or had perhaps been so used to it, the action didn’t register. Cultural norm or trade? </p><p>El gave a shake of his head. “They'd have to use it around this time, otherwise handling traffic in that thing would be an issue.” </p><p>Point. Mara had been thinking the same thing. He’d surprised her by joining her on the scouting. Maybe he wasn’t as scared of the Hutt’s people as she’d originally thought. </p><p>Then again, no one had shot at them yet.</p><p>--</p><p>Jabba’s operation had the sloppiness of someone used to lacking challengers, Mara had decided after the week's surveillance. She’d read about the rivalry between Jabba and Gardulla, a feud El had given her more details about. Now Gardulla was long gone, had been for years, leaving Jabba to reign without competitors. It might be different in Mos Eisley where the Hutt would have to contend with a heightened Imperial presence to curb his excesses. More information on the Hutt's activities there hadn’t been in the files Mara had received, and El claimed little knowledge about the situation at the southern spaceport, not having been there in over a year.</p><p>It’d be a skeleton crew, Mara had pieced up, to move the items, and it’d been a fair bet that security would be provided by Gamorreans. Again, Mara scoffed inwardly. Either Jabba had some personal fondness for the species, or, more likely, they came cheap as dirt. He'd need a non-Gamorrean pilot for the skiff though, and maybe some other moderately intelligent being to supervise the unloading. Nothing she'd seen in her scouting made her think it'd be any more involved.</p><p>A few days later, the skiff departed as Tatoo I started peeking over the horizon. Parked in an adjacent corner surveilling what came in and left Jabba's complex, they let it go past for a block before following. El had settled on a few routes out of the port city to the Mesric Plateau a while back before. They needed to find out which they’d take. Following would be counterintuitively easier in the city; it’d get more complicated out in the desert.</p><p>“They’re probably going to follow the sandcrawler route,” El had said several nights ago, as he scrutinized the map on her datapad. He'd reached over her for a stylus, his naked arm and shoulder inches from her cheek. He still neglected to sleep in anything but those loose pants, not that Mara would ever bring it up.</p><p>El had drawn a path from the dot that read “Mos Espa” down past “Mos Entha,” “Mos Taike,” and the “Mospic Highrange,” then drew the line up close to the rugged looking area on top of the area labeled “Northern Dune Sea.” </p><p>“Jabba’s Palace is up there.” El pointed to an area up in the mountains. "We could let them get as far as Mospic -- not as far as it is here," she didn't care for his teasing grin -- the distance was correct, no matter what he said -- "and cut them off on their way down. The west side is shorter.” He drew a dot between two land formations. “Mospic’s Gate. We catch up to them there.” He stopped and turned his head towards her. “You’re not taking the JumpMaster, are you?”</p><p>She snorted at the ridiculous idea. “Or the speeder I have. I’ll rent out an XP-38 from one of the hustlers at the hangar two blocks away.”</p><p>An oddly closed expression came over his face. “Good, yeah.”</p><p>“What?” she found herself pressing. </p><p>“Nothing,” his attention was back on the map, “I used to own the older model. Faster than an armored skiff, though it probably wouldn’t take the mountains as well.”</p><p>Previous model. Mara thought back. “A 34, is it? What happened to it?”</p><p>He shrugged, eyes on the map, his voice weirdly flat.  “Sold it. The XP-38 had just been rolled out. Meant I got next to nothing for it.” </p><p>It was strange to think of that now as they wound their way out of Mos Espa keeping the skiff in their sights. El said he could pilot, so it wasn’t exactly a surprise he’d have owned a speeder at one time. Did that mean that things had been better once, for him? It was none of her business, but when she’d had him take the speeder on a test run out, she’d found he piloted with the accuracy and precision of someone who’d done it regularly. There was also his knowledge of vehicles in general, particularly starships. <i>That</i> rang to her as aspirational. What else was there to do in a dustball like this than to gather useless information? </p><p>Most surprising of all was how much he’d thrown himself into her mission despite his earlier reluctance. Sure, she’d partnered up before, but Tannis had been used to this sort of thing. This had to be far from anything else El had done up to this point, but he’d complied with everything she’d requested without a problem. How he’d react to the possibility of danger might be something else, she reminded herself.</p><p>Mara focused on Jabba's skiff lumbering down the winding streets. Mara would bet whoever was piloting kept more attention on not banging into the various buildings than if they were followed. Soon enough, the buildings decreased and the wide open expanse of the desert yawning before them. By then Tatoo I was fully out, Tatoo II nudging behind, making the horizon bleed orange. </p><p>“We’re going to lose them now for a bit.” El hit the thrusters, swooshing past from the skiff to the south. </p><p>There was no road or buildings, they were moving down an arid stretch, only sand before them. Mara could see the shadows of the canyons at either side of them. For a while there was silence and the lengthening day. El could have turned the autopilot on. She noticed he didn't. </p><p>Mara went through her weapons again, patting her sleeve for the holdout, pulling the K-9 out from the shoulder holster to check the charge.</p><p>“Thought you checked your blasters back at the inn.”</p><p>She didn’t look up. Working with an amateur gave her very little margin of error. “I like to be thorough.”</p><p> “Isn't stuff like this routine for you?”</p><p>At that, Mara lifted her head. He was looking straight ahead, but his lip had quirked up. Was he teasing her? Again?</p><p>“It is,” she replied testily, shoving the K-9 back into its holster. Way too familiar. “Which is why I know it’s always a good idea to check and recheck. You sure <i>you’re</i> ready? I could do this by myself.”</p><p>She looked up in time to see El all out grin at that. “It’s just piloting.”</p><p>“Right,” she said dryly.  “Well, you know the plan, get that helmet on, give me an in, then hang back and let me take care of it.”</p><p>“You sure? It’s a lot of muscle.” </p><p>Mara flashed him a put upon look. "Not that much." There were mostly Gamorreans in there, and one or two others. With all she was packing, she could take them all, be they Barabels, Trandoshans, or whatever. </p><p>About twenty more minutes had passed before El said, “We should be coming up on the Gate soon.”</p><p>Mara leaned forward to grab one of the bulky helmets they’d picked up. She'd got them mainly for the face mask, but they’d come with built-comlinks, and even an HUD hookup to a vidmap. El claimed not to need the last, and Mara had ignored him. As long as he wasn't readily identifiable, she didn’t care what he thought. She wasn't dealing with another dead body.</p><p>Meanwhile El had lined them up to wait behind a rocky formation several kilometers from the main formation that gave the Gate its name to wait. Mara handed him the helmet and slipped on her own.</p><p>At the designated time, El hit the switch that lowered the cockpit canopy and they were moving ahead again. They’d calculated given the wind, and the skiff’s size compared to the range it’d have to slow down. That would grant her enough time to use her harpoon gun to swing herself onto it without too much risk. Their speeder couldn't go head to head with the skiff's weapons, not to mention swinging over would be a more complicated task with turrets firing at her.</p><p>The skiff was at the archway formation as they were passing it. Exactly as they planned. Mara checked her chrono, down to the minute. They were only a few feet in front of it, El already slowing down to match its speed.  </p><p>Mara aimed her harpoon gun high at the skiff’s side, fired. The magnetic hook hit true and attached. Mara ran down the speeder’s hood easily, given its steady speed, and jumped. A hard yank and the line was pulling her up. She caught speeder falling back from the corner of her eye.</p><p>Just as someone opened a slat and started firing.</p><p>A porcine Gamorrean face peeked out from above. She snapped her wrist for her holdout. The skiff’s movement wasn’t as steady as the speeder had been, made her aim spotty, but she got him on the shoulder and he vanished into the interior with a squeal.</p><p>The line stopped and Mara heaved herself up over the edge of the skiff.</p><p>A bolt whizzed by her side as she slid down and rolled. She fired a few shots as she came up for cover. Several Gamorreans -- three, she counted-- advanced, while a fourth stayed back, blaster in hand. </p><p>There wasn't much to dive under or hide behind, but Gamorreans weren’t very nimble. Mara ducked to avoid another shot and pummeled into the nearest alien with her shoulder. Not expecting his target to rush him, he fell hard against his friend, snorting and grunting.</p><p>Mara slipped the holdout back. She pulled out her heavier K-9, with her free hand from her shoulder holster and stunned them both. Alarmed now, the one remaining Gamorrean sprayed the deck with blaster bolts.</p><p>Throwing herself down to the deck away from the line of fire, Mara reached for her lightsaber. Upon activating it, she stood, deflected the next two shots. The last caught the final Gamorrean square in the chest and pushed him overboard. Mara went to open the hatchway.</p><p>Locked. </p><p>She’d counted on that, and after holstering the K-9, used the lightsaber to pierce through the locking mechanism. Yelling drifted up, the sounds of an argument made indecipherable by the loud whir of the repulsors. Mara reached into a pouch at her belt for a couple of stun grenades.</p><p>There was a snap, the skiff’s suddenly lurching right, like a drunk Sullustan. Mara held on to the hatchway as the skiff lost altitude and plunged into the sand. She felt it veer to the side, and strapped a magnetic line in to keep herself on, hoping it wouldn't fully tip over, senses trained on the hatchway in case anyone was stupid enough to come out.</p><p>The skiff came to a shuddering stop a few feet from the canyon wall, its front half buried in the sand. Mara unclenched her jaw and took stock. Her ribs felt bruised by the tightness of the line, but nothing more. Gingerly, she undid the hook and cautiously made her way down the hatchway to the dark main access corridor towards the cockpit. She clicked on her helmet's headlights. </p><p>A motionless, hairy form lay in a heap a few paces from the ladder, alive but unconscious. Shistavanen, she saw as she neared. The lupine alien's eyes were closed, his tongue lolling out. Further ahead in the cockpit was a round-muzzled Nimbanel slumped down on the pilot’s couch, his body held up by his crash webbing, his head on the controls. He'd undone his neck restraints, which proved to be a poor choice when the impact slammed him head first into the controls. He hadn’t been as lucky as the Shistavanen. Turning, Mara reached out with the Force, but didn’t sense anyone else. </p><p>If her specs had been correct, the vault would be at the back of the skiff, at the opposite end of this access corridor. It was -- behind a durasteel grating that her lightsaber easily cut through. In a few short minutes, she was surrounded by five or six crates half her size, as well as a few animal skin bags, all in all a surprisingly smaller hoard than she’d imagined.</p><p>The first objects that drew her eye were what looked like a couple of paintings under a synth skin cover. They were propped by the side of the interior room, a couple of thick crates beside them. Mara went to one, forgoing finesse to hack through the locks with her lightsaber, smoke from charred electronics wafting up. Pushing the lid aside she dug through boxes of ankares saphires, kurline, and other precious stones, probably stolen or gotten through other equally unsavory means. Nothing relevant to her thus far. </p><p>Mara tried another crate next, made a face as one of the boxes showed several figurines of humanoids, all in lewd positions. Disgusting. One final box about the size of her arm remained. Mara opened it, eyes traveling over its contents, widening in spite of herself. To know was different than to actually have the object in hand.</p><p>A lightsaber. Like hers.</p><p>Not really. Her lightsaber’s hilt was not as ridged as the one in her hand. Mara palmed it, feeling extra weight and restrained her impulse to remove the helmet for a closer look. Heavier than hers. The rumors had to be right then. A chill ran down Mara's spine. The Jedi who'd surfaced to sabotage the Death Star had come from here. The lightsaber had a clip so she hooked it on her belt at the opposite hip of where hers rode. </p><p>Why hadn’t that Jedi taken his weapon with him? The question had no sooner occurred to her than an all-too-familiar tingling at the back of her neck made her whirl. </p><p>Mara ducked to avoid a clawed paw slashing at her. </p><p>The Shistavanen.  Her hand went to her lightsaber. The species as a whole benefited from fast healing.</p><p>Her lightsaber <i>snap-hissed</i> to life, but her arm seared with pain as the Shistavanen’s claws raked through it. She managed a clumsy thrust to edge him back. He roared, showing his fangs. </p><p>In his other hand he held a blaster that she’d missed in a moment of distraction. Instinct had her bringing the lightsaber up with a “no!” as he popped off a shot, sparking in the dark of the vault.</p><p>The deflected blaster shot ricocheted off the sides of the vault. Mara threw herself to the deck, hoping the bolt had found its way to the Shistavanen.</p><p>“Thief!” he bellowed. </p><p>No such luck.</p><p>He couldn't shoot again, these were close quarters. It wasn't something she could count on. The lightsaber had spooked him.</p><p>Mara came up, sidestepped the ensuing shot and swept her lightsaber out, bisecting the Shistavanen. </p><p>She made a face as the body fell with two thumps. This kind of sloppiness wasn’t her preference, but she’d had little choice. Mara gave a quick scan, making sure there were no more surprises. Confident now of the fact, she closed down her lightsaber and clipped it back to her belt on her usual hip. Calling up some pain suppression techniques for her arm, she climbed up the hatchway to the top deck.</p><p>El was waiting for her once she looked over the side of the skiff. He’d lined up the XP-38 beside the fallen skiff, not too far, canopy open. Mara jumped down, using the Force to cushion her landing. She caught a flare of astonishment from him, but he’d played it off, not turning from the canyon before them.</p><p>“Readings show winds picking up,” he said tersely through the helmet's comm, throwing the switch to raise the canopy. “Sandstorm. We should head back before it hits.” He turned his head slightly. She thought he was looking at the lightsaber at her hip, but the helmet made it hard to tell for certain. He hadn't been that curious about her lightsaber when he'd seen it, which had been surprising. Could be he hadn't realized what it was, yet another difference from the sort she was used to working with. The astonishment though, was par for the course. “You got what you were looking for?”</p><p>Mara nodded. "Of course."</p><p>El hit the repulsorlifts and they were off, their speed swiftly gaining. Was a storm approaching that fast? Mara snuck a look behind her. She couldn’t see anything that indicated worsening weather.</p><p>“By the time you see the dark clouds, it’s already too late.” El's eyes were rooted on the path before them. </p><p>And they should be, Mara thought with how he kept keying up the thrusters. She should ask him to slow down, but he wasn’t struggling with the controls at all, focused rather. He was quite good at this for an amateur. Definitely earning his pay.</p><p>Mara took off her helmet and reached under the seat to where she’d slid her medkit. </p><p>A click from the vocoder. “You okay?” </p><p>"Yes." Mara went through the ointments and picked the numbing sterilizer to drop beside her lap. She grabbed the bacta bandages next. Proper healing would have to wait until she got to the nearest ‘fresher for discretion. “Just take us back."</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangeallure/pseuds/strangeallure">Strangeallure</a> held my hand, otherwise this chapter would be posted even later. Thank you!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They reached Mos Espa, only a few minutes before the sandstorm hit. By the time El finished haggling with the hangar proprietor over leaving the speeder, the wind outside was howling. Visibly annoyed, El strode back to where Mara waited, and put an urgent hand on her shoulder. </p><p>"We have to go."</p><p>"What happened?"</p><p>"Tried to charge us triple, ended up charging us double. You should get your helmet on."</p><p>It was only early afternoon, but Mara could barely make out any buildings. The sand and gravel floating in the air created a haze that rendered them indistinct. It was easy to lose one's bearings.</p><p>El didn’t have the same problem, even though he only had a simple cloak, its hood up, another piece of fabric covering the lower half of his face, goggles protecting his eyes.  He wrapped a hand around her good arm, pulled her tightly against him to lead her along in the middle of the gusting wind. </p><p>Staying at the hangar would have been an option, however unpleasant, but if El judged it safe to trudge through the wall of sand and dust that swept all around them, she wouldn't argue. Her mouth tasted gritty, and while she’d disinfected and bandaged her wounds with numbing cream, its effect had faded by now, and Mara was too focused on the walk to work up a pain suppression technique. She ended up feeling every pebble and grain of sand the wind pelted at her scratched up arm.</p><p>El pulled her into a looming structure, the door hissing shut behind them. Mara removed her helmet, sand scattering to the stone floor. A shoddy, unstaffed reception desk greeted them, and she could hear the faint scraping of the wind and grit outside.</p><p>When she glanced at him, she saw he had pulled off his goggles and head scarf. He tipped his head in the stair's direction. Mara followed him up the stairs down the hall to their room. Her neck and wrists, the only parts of skin exposed, itched. Underneath her work gear, she was drenched in sweat. </p><p>Should have sprung for a room with actual water in the ‘fresher, she thought as they took off their boots. The sonic was serviceable, but wouldn’t leave her feeling as clean. She headed there anyway. Some people found the pulses that dissolved the dirt and grime off the body soothing, but she wasn’t one of them. </p><p>After, she'd focused on the scratches on her upper arm. The healing technique her master had taught her was a lot less reliable than the one for pain suppression. It would speed up healing, but only for very small wounds at her current skill level. Bacta and conventional treatment would still be necessary.</p><p>Mara slapped another patch on, grumbling under her breath.</p><p>Being in the fresher alone allowed her to look more closely at the new lightsaber she’d picked up. She examined its black-ridged pommel again. A traitor's weapon, but a weapon nonetheless. Why had the Jedi left it behind?</p><p>Mara didn't know the details of what had gone on at the Death Star. The most plausible account placed the Jedi there, disabling its shielding somehow. From there the rebels were rumored to have found some weakness, something a flight squadron of theirs exploited. Of course the whole squadron was said to have been destroyed in the process by the Death Star's TIEs, but the Death Star -- and all its crew and resources -- had gone with them. Horrific.</p><p>Mara carefully activated the lightsaber. Unlike her magenta one, this one's blade was blue. She wished she could test it, but the 'fresher was too narrow.</p><p>The instructions she’d been given had been simply to find the lightsaber and bring it back. Her master was usually more specific, more forthcoming about her missions but perhaps Yavin had made him more cautious. She frowned thinking of the last few times she'd had an audience with him. He'd not been himself, much more reserved, almost aloof.</p><p>Her mission was done now at any rate -- and a success. The thought brought forth a liquid sense of satisfaction. She'd done it again. It hadn’t even been that hard. Mara shut down the weapon, slid it into her bag, and got herself cleaned up. </p><p>When she came out, El had hung his threadbare headscarf by the door and was busy looking into the spare duffel bag of living supplies they'd gathered. He glanced at her, a water bottle in hand, eyes landing on her bandaged forearm. “How’s the arm?”</p><p>“Fine.”</p><p>He followed the question with a small, incredulous laugh. "I can't believe we stole from Jabba."</p><p>Technically, <i>she</i> did, but she was feeling magnanimous, and his laugh had the potential to be contagious -- if she let it. She allowed herself a small smile. "The piloting wasn't bad."</p><p>He tipped his water bottle at her, eyes glinting in good humor. "You mean for a guttersnipe." Teasing again. She fought the urge to sigh.</p><p>"I mean for an amateur.”</p><p>He shook his head and drank from the bottle. "You cause a couple wrecks, you figure it out."</p><p>She laughed in spite of herself. "Speeder wrecks?"</p><p>"No," he conceded with a grin. "Not speeder wrecks." El took another swig. "I did wreck my T-16 a couple of times, that's real piloting."</p><p>"Piloting a speeder is still piloting. How far from the ground doesn't matter. Why not do that for a living?" she blurted out.</p><p>He shrugged. "Falls under guild services. Jabba keeps a stranglehold on a lot of them. Once his people smell you out, they want their cut, especially if you don't have a license, and it just gets bigger and bigger."</p><p>But somehow he'd avoided that with the sex for pay. Was that not regulated? Didn't the Hutt virtually own the flesh trade, too? Curiosity almost prompted her to ask how, but El put his water bottle aside and went to the 'fresher. </p><p>Mara climbed on the bed, and drew out the lightsaber. She rummaged for her datapad and took a holo of the weapon for her report. </p><p>Putting the datapad down, she picked up the lightsaber again, still surprised at how much heavier it was than hers, probably because the casing was solid. The handgrip and blade emitter were both starkly different as well.  The extra weight seemed impractical -- a lightsaber was a precision tool. She examined the blade emitter carefully, unsure of what it did. </p><p>Why not experiment and find out? As long as the sandstorm was raging outside, they weren’t going to leave the room anyway.</p><p>"That's what you were getting, right?"</p><p>Mara flinched and shoved the lightsaber into her bag. Stupid. She'd been so caught up with the weapon she hadn't noticed El had finished with his sonic and was now standing at the doorway, staring at her.</p><p><i>Was</i> it supposed to stay hidden? She let herself be seen with her own lightsaber. It was an intimidation tactic that invariably yielded positive results: she was the Emperor's agent, with a lightsaber to prove it. </p><p>But on this mission she was supposed to be a bounty hunter.</p><p>"It's a lightsaber," she made it nonchalant. "Jedi Knights had them."</p><p>His curiosity deepened. "Jedi Knights?"</p><p>She guessed he didn't know. Not many people outside the Core did these days, especially people her age. "They were a cult -- once affiliated with the Old Republic, but got corrupted over time."</p><p>"So you're--"</p><p>She barked out a laugh. "No. I'm not. Besides, the Empire wiped them out."</p><p>"The Empire wiped them out," he echoed tonelessly.</p><p>Mara nodded. "They rose up against the Emperor. Lightsabers are curiosities now. Relics. And illegal."</p><p> "How illegal?"</p><p>"You don't want to be caught with one. They'd detain you for questioning, and now, after the battle station disaster, they wouldn't be too nice about it." She wondered how much news had spread. El didn't look surprised at the last. "They might think you're a crazy dissident glorifying the past."</p><p>Her stomach grumbled and she went to the duffel bag with their living supplies. </p><p>"And you have two of them," he said. "You're  not…worried about getting caught?"</p><p>She allowed herself a smile as she fished out a ration bar and a bottle of water. "Least of my worries."</p><p>Mara headed towards  the bed. At this rate she'd be out of Tatooine by tomorrow. Tonight if she pushed it, but she could use some rest before the trip back to the Core. Once her stomach had settled, she looked at her chrono. Still only afternoon.</p><p>"What did that hangar owner charge you?" she asked offhandedly.</p><p>Maybe she should head back tonight. In three days she could be back in the Core.</p><p>El named a figure.</p><p>Mara snorted. "It's not that much, El."</p><p>"He only went that high because he could." His annoyed tone made her look up to see him scowling. "It's not good business."</p><p>Mara made a non-committal noise. Going back to the datapad she'd left on the bed, she scanned the HoloNet for the latest local weather report. Inconclusive. "Four hours, right?" she spoke up. "The sandstorm."</p><p> El had gotten a protein pack for himself and was busy polishing it off in the uncomfortable-looking chair across from the bed. </p><p>He lifted his head. "More or less. It varies."</p><p>Mara thought back to last week, the last time they'd discussed payment. That was before she’d purchased their tech, which meant if she counted how much she might need to bribe the officials to leave this sandhole, she could be short on cash credits. "Make sure to give me your account details, so I can transfer your payment."</p><p>"I don't have an account."</p><p>Of course. "All right. We’ll have to stop by a bank on our way back.  The storm should be over in an hour or two. That's still working hours."</p><p>El winced slightly.</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"Banks close for the day when there's a sandstorm. I mean, probably not in Mos Eisley or Bestine, but definitely here."</p><p>Mara rubbed at her forehead. Mos Espa was bigger than Bestine. No reason it should keep small settlement schedules. How obnoxious. "Tomorrow then," she muttered. So she was not getting off this rock tonight. </p><p>"You planned on leaving tonight?"</p><p>"The job's done." No reason to stay and let people nose around. They already knew she was here going by that Dewback gang. Just because she’d avoided them thus far didn’t justify getting sloppy. Once word got back to Jabba, his people were bound to get more exacting.</p><p>"Right."</p><p>Mara got the sense he was disappointed. Why? He was getting his credits. </p><p>"You should get off planet too. Like you said." She had no idea why she was telling him that. What he did after was none of her business.</p><p>"You'll go coreward?" he asked, then seemed to catch himself and waved a hand with a self-conscious smile. "Wait, you don't have to answer that."</p><p>Mara chuckled. “I wasn’t intending to.”</p><p>El didn’t seem put off and went on, “That’s where I’d go, though Mid Rim would do. I heard there’s a lot of...checkpoints once you go past.”</p><p>“There’s always demand for pilots, too. If you have the skills, it wouldn’t be that hard to get licensed by some guild or other -- legitimate guilds. And there are loans to get a starship.” She shifted off the bed and went to the bag with her weapons, restlessness increasing. The lack of windows in this poor excuse for a room didn’t help.</p><p>Mara pulled her holdout from her bag and undid the power pack, checked it, slid it back. The itch to do something wasn't fading.</p><p>“You don’t like to stay in one place for too long,” he said. It sounded like he was guessing.</p><p>She grunted a negative. “I'm not fond of waiting around." It was fine if she were surveilling someone, but dead time felt like a slowly tightening noose around her neck. "It’s fine. I can keep myself occupied.”  </p><p>El fell silent as he finished the food while she checked her power pack again. Mara wanted to pace, but that’d be embarrassing with an audience. If she were in Coruscant, she’d go to the gym. Occasionally, she’d wanted to skulk through the undercity, daring some lowlife to cross her, but it’d felt too reckless, too much of a waste of her skillset. </p><p>She would now, but if she could do that, it meant she could also <i>leave</i>, that would keep her occupied enough. Mara rubbed a hand over her face. Blasted Tatooine. </p><p>“Me and a friend,” El offered tentatively, “We had plans to buy our own starship and go into business together. Shipping or something.” He chuckled as if the idea had been ridiculous. “We didn’t know for sure.”</p><p>She put the blaster back and made a vague acknowledging noise.</p><p>“He’d, ah, he’d gone to the Imperial Academy. Graduated as a pilot.”</p><p>Mara raised her head at that. “Where did he get sent to?”</p><p>El met her eyes at a loss.</p><p>“He didn’t tell you? When you get accepted, if your specialty is piloting, you get placed in a Sector Naval Academy and from there you get sent elsewhere. Carida, Eriadu, and so on, the top tiers get sent to the Royal Academy -- Coruscant.”</p><p>El crushed the protein pack wrapper. “I didn’t know that. He didn’t get a chance to tell me before he went back. I,uh--I applied too," he continued after a beat. "Well, I passed the qualifying tests, but I had to withdraw my application.”</p><p>Mara started. “You passed the aptitudes?” There was no way to take those tests, let alone pass them if you were living hand to mouth on the street. They required specialized study or extensive sim practice at the very least -- and a valid identicard. “You passed the aptitudes and <i>withdrew</i>?”</p><p>Withdrawing was even more incomprehensible. Passing the aptitudes virtually guaranteed a candidate entry into one of the Imperial Academies. The actual application was a formality, the academies took care of everything and going through it all but guaranteed licensing and work throughout civilized space; it was a direct route to military service if the applicant were talented enough. How could anyone turn down the opportunity? Why in space would they -- especially coming from here?</p><p>“Just couldn’t that year. Thought maybe the next, but…”</p><p>It didn't make any sense. “Why couldn't you?"</p><p>El shook his head. His eyes cut away. "Just couldn't."</p><p>Mara had no choice but to leave him to his reticence. "And your friend?" she couldn't resist asking. "He went.”</p><p>“Yeah. I don’t know where he is now though. He hasn't come back since he graduated.”</p><p>It was Tatooine. She wouldn't want to return here either. El was looking down, shoulders slumped slightly forward. “Maybe once you get off planet you can track him down," she found herself suggesting. "If he graduated, he’s probably on record somewhere. You can find out whether he registered as merchant or military. If he’s military it shouldn’t be too hard to find out where he’s stationed. Merchant is trickier, but there’s a few databases that log in identicards and transponders. It’s not impossible to track someone down these days.”</p><p>“The Empire is everywhere,” he muttered.</p><p>She nodded solemnly, turned back to her bag and zipped it up.“It is."</p><p>“Are you in those databases?” He stood, getting his worn datapad from his own bag and padded over to his side of the bed. “Guess you can’t answer that.”</p><p>Mara shook her head and pushed her weapons bag off the bed. She went back to her datapad, toggled over the files she'd been given a week ago -- the ones she'd catalogued as out-of-date and thus irrelevant, reports of the rebel cell that had stolen some Imperial droids with sensitive information. The members had posed as moisture farmers for years. She <i>should</i> read those files. Too much of what floated around court was rumor, as usual. She thought her master would have filled her in, but he hadn't.</p><p>“What you do is illegal -- how do you avoid the Empire?” El asked beside her.</p><p>“I don’t," she replied after a moment, eyes still on her screen. Court didn't realize what it meant to have the rebels score such a victory. To them it was just another scandal, as outrageous as the latest conquest by Baron Yllis. Fools, all of them. "You reach an understanding. Being anonymous is near impossible.”</p><p>That was true everywhere in this day and age, wasn’t it? Even if court didn’t know her as the Emperor’s Hand, it had to know her as <i>someone</i>-- as one of the Emperor’s wards, an entertainer, a dancer. Her smile faded. No one of substance. Only her master knew the truth. </p><p>Why hadn't he broached the subject of the Death Star? she wondered again. Perhaps he was just waiting -- a year had passed though. Either way, she would get nowhere questioning him. The only thing to do was to return and wait for him to confide in her, wait for the next mission he assigned her.</p><p>Would that be better than being here? The thought was perplexing, but...not wrong. To go back meant to go back rubbing shoulders with cosmetics-ladden, jewel-decked aristocrats, those who thought of her as a vapid floozy, making overtures to her for the sham of her cover, for her perceived closeness to the Emperor. Maybe she <i>should</i> accept, see what the fuss of being in someone's bed was all about. It'd be a way to pass the time.</p><p>Accepting would round out her education. Her last tutor had implied it. But they’d talk among themselves wouldn’t they? All those scions of Old Core families. If she were to cavort with any of them, it'd have to be more than just gaining experience, wouldn't it? It'd be a performance to be judged and ranked -- like everything else at court. </p><p>Mara snuck a glance at El. His head was bent over his timeworn datapad, hair falling into his face. Her eye skittered down his bare chest. How did one get so tan when your business, as it were, happened indoors? How did one get hands that rough?</p><p>She knew, didn't she? Piloting, tech work, scavenging. Anything that pays. <i>Anything.</i></p><p>Her eye passed down his left leg, casually bent at the knee. He'd never be popular at court with his too-fair hair, too-dark skin, too-childlike features. His proportions would be judged too small, not imposing enough. All of that could be worked with, but his greatest defect ran deeper: the exact same self-effacement that worked so well for him here. It would lead to outright contempt at court, be read as capitulation. Whatever wasn't entitlement was generally read as its polar opposite there. </p><p>El raised his eyes to her, and Mara’s gaze dropped back to her screen, jaw grinding down. To <i>round out her education</i> meant accepting the claims of those useless whisperkits on her, when unlike them, she'd <i>earned</i> her standing through sweat and toil.  There was a bacta patch on her arm and that wasn't even the end of it as far as her missions were concerned. She hadn't just been <i>given</i> her privileges. That was something none of those pretty faces would understand.</p><p>But it didn’t have to be that way -- her, concerned about what some spoiled moff’s progeny might think of her, what they might tell their equally shallow friends, not knowing she could easily make them breathe their last breath if given the order. She didn’t need to learn from anyone. Not in something as primitive, as simple as sex. She could manage on her own like she had with everything else thus far -- all she needed was someone to practice on. </p><p>And, well, she could do worse than an Outer Rim rent boy.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mara cracked her neck, rolled her shoulders and crossed into his space on the bed. El’s eyes flickered up to her.</p><p>“Can I change my mind?” she murmured.</p><p>She didn’t wait for him to reply. Just leaned forward, pressing her mouth to his. Should be nothing to this -- wasn’t a kiss just a controlled mashing of lips? His hand lifted to the back of her head, but she didn’t really think he would push her away. He'd offered just a week ago. </p><p>After a brief moment, Mara drew away to pick up his near-ancient datapad and placed it on the bedside table, shifting her knees to either side of him and loosened her hair from the ponytail she'd pulled it into after her sonic. </p><p>“Arica.” His hand had come up to perch at her waist. “--mnf.” </p><p>She'd interrupted him by crushing her lips to his again. One of his hands slid up just under her chin, fingertips trailing up her cheek. Mara leaned towards him wanting to preempt him pulling her down. She dropped her hand to his abdomen, inching down the waistband of his pants, cataloguing soft skin, tense muscle, the hardness of his cock, thinking it strange to touch someone like this, out of mere curiosity. </p><p>His reaction was interesting too. How he surged up against her with a small noise when her hand closed around him. Surprise? At any rate, more than a trickle of interest blossomed at his reaction, a flush sweeping over her that sped up her heart rate. Watching red holos felt different from this. He’d reacted to something <i>she’d</i> done.</p><p>His tongue was in her mouth, distracting her. This was part of kissing too, she knew, but it had always seemed a little disgusting. It was just odd now, he didn’t taste like anything necessarily, only...a point of contact, his tongue sliding against hers. More than a flush this time, she felt that pulse between her legs, making the air around her feel heavier. He pulled back, his tongue gently tracing her lower lip, and she grew warm from the inside out, like a blush, but deeper, more diffuse than what she recognized as arousal. His hand was by her jaw, calloused fingers soft against her cheek. </p><p>She thought she’d try the tongue thing herself, pressing her lips against his again and sweeping her tongue into <i>his</i> mouth, like licking at his tongue, his teeth. A bit too much saliva in the whole operation, she judged, but not terrible. </p><p>Adjusting her grip on his cock slightly, Mara tried an up and down motion she’d commonly seen. His hips jutted slightly, like an involuntary twitch. He gasped against her mouth. </p><p>Mara pulled away, out of breath herself. She could feel herself wet -- that'd been faster than she thought, good. Her hands went to the hem of her tunic, yanked it off, feeling the air on her skin only incrementally cooler. </p><p>For the sake of expediency, she moved away from El and shoved down her pants and her underclothing. When she turned back to him, he’d gotten rid of his own clothing, and she smiled tightly, trying to ignore the lurking awkwardness of it all. </p><p>For heaven's sake, she thought with an inward recoil, no stupid holodrama lines, or worse yet, a cheap leer. </p><p>He didn't offer either, thankfully. Instead, his eyes moved over her body quickly, stopping at her bandaged arm, expression inquiring.</p><p>“Your arm? Does it hurt--”</p><p>She shook her head. “I put more numbing cream on it. It’s not an issue.”</p><p>Mara scooted close again. She didn’t allow herself the same survey of him though she wanted to -- that just seemed like it would make things more uncomfortable. Best to just get it over with. </p><p>She slid a leg over him, her weight on her knees once more. El moved forward, but Mara brought a hand to his shoulder and exerted slight pressure. He got the message, saving her from having to tell him, and lay back. His hands rose to her hips, not quite a grip, thumbs stroking up her waist, not unpleasant either. </p><p>She scooted back, arranging herself over him, feeling suddenly off, bumbling, and too aware of him staring at her. Get it over with, she thought, grateful for the fall of her hair over her face, a wall of common brown. Better. Mara lowered herself down on his cock.</p><p>“Wait,” El’s voice rose slightly as she did, both strained and alarmed. “I--I don’t think you’re--”</p><p>--  it <i>hurt</i>, a scraping, burning pain she hadn’t been expecting. She forced away a grunt and stopped. It hurt too much to continue. </p><p>“Quiet,” she managed. Her voice came out strong in spite of the pain. Mara took a deep breath. It felt like ripping inside of her. What the hell? No red holo performer she’d seen demonstrated any uneasiness in this, no pause, no second of hesitation. Sex was nothing but an easy <i>slide-thrust-thrust</i>, and it wasn’t like El’s cock was any bigger or thicker than what she’d seen. Was it her? Something wrong with her? </p><p>No. Absolutely not.</p><p>It was the adjustment. Of course. Her body could work through a number of things if she just relaxed, she thought. This too. She was going to relax, make it work through this. That was all she had to do. Adjust.</p><p>"Arica--"</p><p>"What?" It came out sharper than she intended and she modulated her voice to something more agreeable. "Something wrong?"</p><p>El was staring at her, his face splotchy red. He looked…confused. A blink and his expression shifted to neutral. "No...nothing."</p><p>She wanted to tell him to shut up and keep still, but it felt too much like giving herself away. Luckily, he didn't say anything else -- or move.</p><p>Mara leaned forward, anchoring herself with a hand on the bed, the bedsheets scratchy under it, and forced her focus back to her body. Keeping her eyes closed, she lifted her hips slightly, catching a hiss from El that she ignored. She had asked. He could just stop her if he were in distress from here on in. </p><p>Lowering herself inch by inch was irritating, but she <i>had</i> to go slower this time, painstakingly so. Even at that glacial pace, it wasn't pleasant. El shifted and she breathed that raw scrape inside her worsening. She almost gave him a correction -- a hard tap on the shoulder she'd often been on the other side of -- over it. </p><p>Feeling sheepish at the impulse, she gathered herself, and started over. For a second she thought El would interrupt her again, but after a moment it seemed he'd opted to keep his silence. </p><p>At least that scraping feeling wasn’t as sharp as it'd been at the beginning. Now with him fully inside her, she forced herself to keep herself loose, keeping her eyes away from El. Relax. She needed to relax and keep trying. Mara closed her eyes, drew her hips up again.</p><p>She brought her free hand between her legs, fingers stroking across her clit as she drew down bit by bit, shutting out the sound of El's breathing. That would work; it was all biological anyway, a basic feedback response system. She'd started with a miscalculation, that was all.</p><p>She took him in fully once more and felt herself ease up further. Her touch on her clit did help, some of the discomfort lessening, fragmenting among the familiar flickers of pleasure. Better.</p><p>Mara raised her head and opened her eyes, gaze following a faint crack running across the stone wall behind the bed. That was it, obviously. Her body just wasn't used to it. The first time positioning herself in a particular way could hurt, had hurt before in various exercises and dance movements. Sex wasn't any different.</p><p>Mara closed her eyes, anchoring herself in her own body again, the feeling of him inside her. She lifted her hips again, not as slowly as before, but carefully.</p><p>She moved her hand from where she’d put it for extra leverage, accidentally brushing it against El’s midriff. His abdominals rippled with his breathing. Mara pushed the awareness aside. She needed to concentrate on herself, will her body to keep adjusting.</p><p>A few tries later, moving over him was feeling better yet. But was <i>this</i> the kind of thing that merited so many scandals, so many tumbles from grace? Really? All she could see herself ending up was sore. </p><p>Gradually, the motion became more fluid. The sharpness of the pain had faded, and while not entirely comfortable, there was something bordering pleasant about the stretch, feeling his cock inside her -- a sense that it <i>could</i> be even better. Her fingers glided down her clit on every fall of her hips. She kept on until it started to feel somewhat good, smoother, a fluid hot feeling building low in her belly, the blood beginning to rush in her ears. She closed her eyes again.</p><p>A touch-- not hers --at her hip wandered up to the hollow between her ribs, breaking through her concentration, reminding her...She stopped and opened her eyes. El was staring at her, his blue eyes hazy, yet too observant. Mara grew cold, a visceral impulse to get off him and get her clothes back on. </p><p>Ridiculous. </p><p>Her voice was firm when she gave one shake of her head, “This position isn’t working for me.” She shifted off him and turned around, knees back at either side of him, her hands down on the bed. More complicated, but that way she wouldn’t have an audience. “Can we try it like this?”</p><p>“Uh...um, yeah, of course,” he said huskily. His hands were at her hips. He cleared his throat. “This ok?”</p><p>Mara made a vaguely affirmative sound as she reached for his cock, one hand on the bed for balance. Her free hand closed around the base of his cock, finding it wet, surprisingly she didn't find that offputting. She would have rather stopped there, actually, shelved the rest as too tedious, and just examined him, seen what reactions she could draw. But that would be too weird.</p><p>Sliding herself down on his cock while facing away <i>was</i> logistically more difficult. She did go slow, but the pain flared back into being at the different angle, forcing her to bite back a grunt. She went even slower, much slower than she had previously, opting for more of a cant of her hips than a slide until with each movement the discomfort began fading into a dull soreness. </p><p>After a few moments, Mara tested lightly circling her hips, varying her movements because it was -- finally --  starting to feel...all right, like before, though it was difficult to balance and touch herself at the same time. </p><p>She kept on raising and lowering her hips until sweat trickled down her temple, down her spine. Flexing her back, pleasure zigzagged up her spine unexpectedly, her breath leaving her in a high, surprised sound. Mara lowered herself down with more force, chasing the feeling. The scraping sensation was back at that and she couldn't contain a grunt of equal parts frustration and pain. Mara gritted her teeth, went back to concentrating on her touch at her clit. She fell back into her previous movement, not as slow this time, but with more care.</p><p>A slight squeeze at her hips. She could have imagined that -- so consumed was she by her fingers’ play and the movement of her hips. Her thighs were beginning to burn, but she swallowed air, a flash in her head that she wanted to come, really wanted to now, <i>could</i> come if she kept this up. </p><p>Her touch grew clumsy. It was getting even harder to divide her concentration between attention to her clit and raising and lowering her hips, but she would come from this, she was more certain with each stroke of her fingers. She wasn't about to let it slip away.</p><p>Mara drew her hips a higher, dropping down harder and it was <i>exertion</i> as she panted loudly, sweat streaming down her face, stinging her eyes, her thighs beginning to shake. This was the kind of strain she was used to, and the effort only brought an automatic focus. The <i>work</i> of it satisfying in a way that collided with the pleasure of her fingers rubbing at her clit, until that strange feeling of intrusion, no longer a scrape, became a slick stroke. </p><p>Spurred by a low build, her motions gained more urgency, tightening her muscles so hard the shake snaked up her spine, and her body snapped tight, ruining her coordination completely, breaths spilling from her lungs.</p><p>Mara fell forward slightly, except no, her hips were pulled back decisively. She threw her head back, sucking air, a small sound loosened from the back of her throat as she slackened. </p><p>Once the feeling faded, Mara realized she was breathing hard, her skin soaked in sweat. She'd been right. It had all been about adjusting. She knew it. </p><p>Gingerly, she shifted off El. Had he -- ? But the quick glance she gave him showed her he was still hard, his cock reddened and shiny with wetness at the tip. She tore her eyes away and lifted her head, turning her body to face him, pushing her hair back.</p><p>He sat up, his hand going down to his cock. “Can I jerk off?"</p><p>Mara licked her dry lips and nodded. That wasn't how things went in the holos, but going by this, they were even more staged than she'd thought.</p><p>El made a vague gesture. "Like this or you rather I stand?"</p><p>"Stand." She turned entirely, so she could face him.</p><p>He did, his eyes wandering down her body, a bit slower than before. Oddly enough she didn't feel self conscious this time, even leaned back on her forearms. His eyes sought her face before gliding back down her neck, her breasts, her middle, between her legs and down. Back up.</p><p>Ludicrous thoughts rolled in her head. Palming her breast. Parting her legs. Throwing her head back and touching herself again. But that wasn't her at all -- just red holo trash. Fakery. Something she’d seen someone else do.</p><p>And what she really wanted was to look. </p><p>He was lithe, trim bordering skinny, narrow hips, his hip bones prominent. Some definition in his arms, his chest. What would it be like to run her tongue along the line between his pectorals? She blinked, catching herself, and tracked down his flat stomach to where he had himself in hand. </p><p>He wasn't completely hairless like the men in the holos, but neither was he hirsute, the hair between his legs darker than the hair in his head.  He wasn't as...long or thick, she confirmed, as far as she could see, but the humans in censored entertainment were invariably augmented and artificial -- she'd known <i>that</i>.</p><p>Mara moved her gaze upwards back to his face. El's eyes were set on her, and from the rise and fall of his chest she gathered his breathing had grown sharper. His face was flushed, the crimson deeper than before, spreading over his cheekbones, visible even through his tan. </p><p>His expression was hard to read though, hazy to be sure, but also strangely focused -- different from the kind of overdramatized hunger from the holos. On a primal level that she couldn’t explain, she could feel that he wanted her. He could have easily touched himself and been miles away, but he wasn’t. </p><p>She tried for a sense of him through the Force as confirmation, but found herself unable to concentrate enough. She was less alarmed about that than she should have been, but she didn’t need to access the Force now anyway. </p><p>He'd sped up his strokes, hips shoving into his hand, his breathing a soft rasp in the room. Her certainty could be because of his heavy stare at her, and she didn’t find this off putting now either. He was thinking of her, but  what exactly? Touching her? Fucking her? How?</p><p>Mara could feel wetness between her thighs from when she'd come as she became aware of more heat low at her belly. She could go again; it'd probably be much less uncomfortable, she thought watching El tense, his breaths unsteady, wet slide of skin as he touched himself audible.</p><p>This was more than just interesting. She was inexplicably drawn to his parted mouth, to the way his flush had gone down to his chest, the way a sheen of sweat made his skin glisten. </p><p>He <i>was</i> good-looking, she decided, slightly taken aback, just... different.</p><p>El let out a soft sound she could feel right between her thighs -- and his strokes slowed down, body stiffening as his hips stuttered. A gush of liquid dripped down his hand, his eyes falling closed until he was still. It should be distasteful, the messiness of it, but instead the whole tableaux made her antsy, a different kind of antsy, restless enough to want to make herself come again. </p><p>But that would be excessive. She watched as El gave her a small smile, hand over his cock as he hurried to the ‘fresher. </p><p>Mara shifted on the bed. The room had an animal tang of sweat and what she assumed was sex that made her wrinkle her nose. She clenched her thighs, more than a bit sore, conscious of the drying sweat on her skin. Learning experience. Right. She heaved herself up from the bed and went for her clothes. </p><p>He came out as she was sliding her pants back up and reached for his own. "Was that ok?" </p><p>Did he mean her watching him, the actual sex or both?  She was reasonably sure she'd managed to dress up her lack of practical know-how through preferences, and feigned offhandedness. "Yeah, it's been a while." Mara found herself adding, "Thanks." And promptly felt strange. Unpleasant.</p><p>She’d just paid for sex.</p><p>Sudden dismay turned her spine to ice as the knowledge settled. She’d paid for sex like some desperate idiot who couldn’t kriff anyone if credits weren’t involved. The Pa’lowick  laughing and fondling the headtails of that Twi’lek next to him popped into her head. She’d degenerated to a willing participant in Outer Rim sleaze. </p><p>Mara almost squeezed her eyes shut, a sick feeling in her stomach. </p><p>"Shouldn't be long until the storm clears," El broke through her thoughts. He’d picked his datapad up and turned it in her direction. Mara looked on without really seeing it, trying to squash down her revulsion. What had she been thinking? And to even <i>consider</i> doing it again?</p><p>"The feeds show more of the buildings. El continued, looking at her strangely, “We can go out now if you're in a rush, but the air quality is probably awful."</p><p>"I'd like to check on the ship,” she made herself say, her voice sounding flat to her ears. This hadn’t happened. The job was done, and this hadn’t happened. “Maybe you can show me where the bank is so that we can do the transfer first thing tomorrow. I mean you can wait while the air quality improves -- we can slot it to later tonight."</p><p>"All right." He laughed in a way that seemed to call for a friendly response. "I still can't believe we stole from Jabba."</p><p>Mara couldn’t really summon a chuckle over the icy feeling of regret lodged deep in her spine. What was wrong with her? What in space had she been thinking?</p><p>"He was sloppy," she replied blandly.</p><p>El smiled at her, a tinge of uneasiness in it. </p><p>Exceedingly sloppy, and it was a relief to turn her thoughts in this direction. The Hutt had to be confident no one would dare steal from him. All the same, another consideration came to her, there were good practices for an operation like the one she’d conducted.</p><p>"There's no reason we should be sloppy too. We should switch inns." </p><p>He started. "You think someone saw us at the skiff?"</p><p>"I don't think so. It's a solid idea in general.” She pulled her hair back into a ponytail. "I know it's a hassle, but I rather not risk it at this point. Think of it as a precaution."</p><p>He was silent for a beat. "There's another inn not too far from here. Same type. Or you rather better?"</p><p>“I don't care. Different but same type is fine. Wait until it gets better outside then you can get the room while I check on the ship.” What they’d had was the equivalent of a late lunch. “You can grab dinner around there -- get me whatever you’re getting, but go easy on the spices." She expected a teasing smile at that, but he only tipped his head, expression uncommonly serious. Maybe the idea of the Hutt tracking them spooked him. "Take the bags with you and comm me the address. Meet you there in an hour." She paused. "No one was alive when I left the skiff. There's no reason to believe we're in danger, this is only...standard operating procedure for a job like this."</p><p>El made a sound of acknowledgement, but his unease hadn't faded. </p><p>He'd have to get over it. Mara strode over to the 'fresher. She'd need yet another sonic before the night was through after being outside. You could never get clean enough on this blasted planet.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The new seedy inn was only a few streets down from the old seedy inn. Ever since they'd settled in Mara had a crawling feeling, not quite alarm, nor the restless from earlier, just a lingering disquiet. She ignored it through her check on her speeder, then her ship. She ignored it through dinner, some inoffensive grain and vegetable bowl she'd eaten in silence  at her and El's room.</p><p>“You said we weren’t followed,” El said from somewhere behind her. He'd seemed to pick up on her mood, and quickly gave up on breaking her silences. She’d played it off at first, but stopped at some point as she ate. Now she was hunched over her datapad on the floor. The screen showed one of the files she’d gotten from the garrison, but she’d been unable to focus on them. Not that she’d had to. She'd completed her mission.  </p><p>It was either that or the uneasiness.</p><p>The room didn't help. It was narrower than the last, no chair, uncomfortable or otherwise, still a single bed. For the cover, though not necessarily. Maybe El thought they'd have sex again before the night was through. She couldn't blame him. It'd taken her precisely one week to reverse herself. </p><p>Had he suspected she would, read a tell from her? Something written on her she'd never suspected?</p><p>“We weren’t,” Mara murmured, a sinking feeling growing stronger. “We weren’t followed.” That, at least, she was sure of.</p><p>It all made for a <i>great</i> story, didn't it? A predictable one, down to the punchline-- the Core bitch who'd clutched her Veda pearls but ended up on the sheets like everyone else. Not that El would tell or make any kind of fuss. He was too <i>professional</i> for that. This was just another evening for him.</p><p>She couldn't wait to be light years away.</p><p>“Then what is it?”</p><p>“Nothing.”</p><p>El made a skeptical noise that made her look over. He was climbing into the bed. Bare chested, her thoughts ran back to him touching himself in front of her, her wondering what it’d be like to run her tongue down his chest. Mara turned back to her datapad, the Aurebesh scarcely making sense. She was disgusting. </p><p>"Really," she said, hearing the hollowness in her own voice. "It's nothing."</p><p>A few seconds passed. "I know you meant to clear off tonight," his tone reminded her of when she'd caught him following her, careful with a thread of nervousness, "but the morning's not that much later, and you have what your buyer hired you to get." </p><p>Mara rubbed at her face, not really paying attention. "Yeah," she said half to herself. She looked at her chrono. If she couldn't concentrate on anything worthwhile, she should just get some rest.
</p><p>She put her datapad in her satchel and plodded to the bed. They’d head to the bank first thing. Then she’d clear off, tell her master her mission had been a sound success.</p><p>She should feel happy about that, Mara thought, pulling back the scratchy sheets on her side of the bed. El was looking at her she knew, but she avoided looking in his direction. As happy as she'd been when she had gotten back from getting the lightsaber. It should be the only thing that mattered. It <i>was</i> the only thing that mattered. She wouldn’t be the first to have made an error of judgement. Wouldn't be the last. Mara clicked off the light on the dusty bedside table. No one had to know.</p><p>Closing her eyes, she curled up tightly on her side, tucking her knees in. No one would know.</p><p>The next thing she knew, slight tingling at the back of her neck was waking her. She sat up, her hand reaching for her holdout she’d clipped under the bedside table.</p><p>“Something’s happening,” came El’s hushed voice as she reached out with the Force.</p><p>Presences. Two. Outside. Far away, but searching.</p><p>They felt like the thugs from the gang.</p><p>How had El known? </p><p>She couldn't ponder that now. “We have to go.” Mara flicked on the light and went for her tunic and pants, hearing the rustle of him digging around, getting his own clothes. “Grab only what you need.”</p><p>It was dark out, several hours before first dawn when they exited, the street lit up haphazardly by fusion lanterns hanging at the side of the buildings. Her eyes zeroed in on a landspeeder parked by the old inn a good two blocks away. Two figures went in, and Mara caught the shadow of blasters in their hands and ducked between the inn and the next building, gesturing to El. </p><p>“I don’t know how they could have found us,” Mara muttered, peering over the side of the inn. “Both of the pointbeings were dead.” She'd covered her tracks well while scouting Jabba's place. Everything had been routine.</p><p>“The speeder?” El whispered as they rushed away from the inn, deeper into the alley over. It should deposit them in a back street and from there, they could make for her landspeeder’s hangar. </p><p>“If they’d put a tracker on it." But when? If Jabba's people had gone asking around, they might have turned up something based on physical description alone, but it was unlikely. Her most identifiable physical trait was hidden under a colorant for the time being and she’d paid in cash credits for the speeders and both rooms.  </p><p>But if they <i>had</i> been tracked, this wasn't the worst of it. Mara stopped. What if there were another set of thugs waiting by the hangar where they'd left her speeder?</p><p>By her ship?</p><p>“Blast it,” she muttered under her breath as she felt again that alarm from the Force and scanned around the deserted street. Shadowy forms gathered a few blocks away. 

</p><p>They couldn't risk going back for either the speeder or her ship now. She made a turn into another alley, keeping her pace brisk but within a normal range.</p><p>Her stomach tightened as she felt the presences move towards them, still there a street over and even closer. Taking their sweet time, so maybe they weren't sure. Maybe they were counting on her being alone and El's presence had thrown them off. She glanced at him, not needing the Force at all to read his tension. Another alley, she cast a discrete look behind her but whoever she'd seen before was gone. The Force signaled <i>something</i>, though.</p><p>She made for the alley's exit. This was the sort of amorphous warning she loathed. Where are you?</p><p>Suddenly, El dropped his bag, tugged her by the wrist to the side and drew close before she could stammer a reflexive objection, so close she thought he'd kiss her. He didn't, and the flicker of disappointment came with dismay at its heels. It didn't last because she glimpsed forms at the opposite end of the alley, and the Force's warning felt even keener.</p><p>She should have picked them out earlier, but the crunch of boots on gravel grew louder, and she caught on to the ruse. El brought his arms loosely around her, palms flat along her lower back.</p><p>"We're not going to the hangar," he whispered by her ear.</p><p>She managed a shake of her head, her mouth suddenly and mystifyingly refusing to work. Statement, not question, she thought, rather stupidly. It'd be obvious to him, knowing the city. Glowrods glimmered to life several meters away, kicking her into action. Mara threw her arms around his neck, dropping her head by his shoulder.</p><p>"Where then?" he asked.</p><p>But <i>where</i> wasn't in her sights. Not with Jabba's people this close. She'd deal with that after she got them out of this. Realizing, she still had her satchel, Mara took a half-step back, pushed hers off, slid it between her feet a few seconds before the glare hit her, and she stepped further into El, hiding her face by his shoulder again. Whoever Jabba had sent was drawing nearer but her thoughts fogged up by her heightened awareness of El, the thin fabric of his tunic against her forehead, the warmth seeping through it, the smell of his skin, his quickening heartrate. </p><p>Mara bit her lip against the urge to -- to what exactly? She'd already slept with him and the whole...operation hadn't been to her taste. And yet, she felt warmth spreading outwards, rushing up her body to her face. Insane. She hadn't prepared for this mission, hadn't excelled thus far, only to get herself killed over nonsense.</p><p>El half-turned, and yelled something in...Huttese, she assumed. It sounded vaguely irritated, but it could just be the language. Huttese had never been what you'd consider melodious. </p><p>Two voices from decidedly nonhuman throats growled back a reply, then what seemed like a question.</p><p>He replied in rapid fire, and Mara felt some apprehension from him. Her thoughts cleared further at it. Had the thugs not believed what he'd told them? She heard the thugs' boots come closer. If so, she needed to do something. There were three--could she get rid of them?</p><p>No. El would be directly in their line of fine.</p><p>He continued, a bit more deferential now, cajoling? He could be telling them they'd come from some nearby cantina, that no, they hadn't seen the human in question. But, of course, she had no way to be sure. El was increasingly wary, that much was obvious through the Force. If she only knew what was being said, she could actually <i>do</i> something.</p><p>This was hours past second twilight, the streets mostly empty of most nighttime trawlers. There was really only one kind of being who would have the kind of poor judgement to go traipsing along dark alleys at this time.</p><p>She jerked away from El as she made a loud heaving sound, doubled over, and made it louder, hoping the thugs' disgust meant they wouldn't look too closely -- doing so they'd happen on their bags, and quickly see they weren't the kind of thing cantina flies would have.</p><p>El gave a startled shout, directing some aggrieved-sounding Huttese the thugs' way. Mara made sure to keep her retching loud.</p><p>The thugs laughed snidely and said something else. But they did hurry away. Once they'd disappeared Mara reached for her bag, a new alarming thought forming.</p><p>"That would do it," El whispered, amused.</p><p>Pulling out the lightsaber she'd recovered, she rummaged for a small glow rod, holding it in her mouth while she got her multitool out and unscrewed the pommel from the casing.</p><p>"We should get going. What is it?"</p><p>And there it was, no bigger than her little finger’s fingernail. She took it out, and rescrewed the pommel back, put everything away save her glowrod to examine the device.</p><p>El had <i>known</i>.</p><p>In a split second she'd stood, holdout in hand. She shoved the muzzle under his jaw, forcing him to take a step back.</p><p>"'<i>Something's happening</i>?'" she hissed.</p><p>"I didn't know, I swear," he whispered back urgently. "It was just a feeling! I get that sometimes! I've been followed before!"</p><p>"If you're one of that Hutt's --"</p><p>"No! I don't even know what you found in that saber...thing! Arica, if they're after you, they're after me too."</p><p>"It's a fucking tracker," she said between gritted teeth.</p><p>"When would I have put it there? You always had it with you!" Fear ratcheted up in his sense. "Always! And--and why would I tell you if I thought there was something happening? Or try to get them away from us?"</p><p>She pulled her holdout back with a scowl. Nothing he'd said felt like a lie. It could be paranoia; he'd been jumpy all evening. More importantly for the moment, that had been the second set of thugs -- there could easily be a third group or the first group could double back. The tracker obviously had some delay. Mara whirled and strode out of the alley and into another one of the marginally larger streets. No sign of anyone, but she was hardly in the clear.</p><p>Going to a parked speeder, Mara slid the tracker on its hood, moving briskly away with El falling in step beside her. She reflexively patted her headscarf, making sure it was in place as she went through her options. Not many of them.</p><p>“What about your ship?” El whispered.</p><p>“Another group could be there and at the hangar where we left the speeder," she bit off. She should have been more careful when she looked over the lightsaber. Mos Espa wasn't safe anymore. Right now the best she could do was find a landspeeder she could hotwire out of the city.</p><p>Suddenly El was pulling her to the other side of the street, to a 74-Y speeder bike. He leaned over hitting some combination to light up the security panel in blinking yellow lights. </p><p>“You’re stealing this?” A landspeeder would blend in better, not to mention it'd be studier.</p><p>The defensive note that edged under the words when he added, “We need to leave now" indicated he'd misread her. His fingers flew over the keypad. She'd been taught the easiest thing would be to override the whole UI with an executive -- most, if not all basic civilian low altitude craft answered to three commands-- but the access panel responded to whatever convoluted bypass El hammered into it anyway.</p><p>“The ga--” The garrison north, she found herself saying, but stopped, eyes on the street, while she ran through the scenario. Could she commandeer a ship from there? What about the credits she owed El? Where else? </p><p>"Mos Eisley," she corrected quickly. The city was safe, she could get the credits <i>and</i> grab a ship offplanet, she'd have her JumpMaster picked up later. "I can contact my people there and --”</p><p>“You can't.” He didn’t look up from where he an access panel had opened and he was already threading the starter bundle. "Jabba's there, the Imperials are there. And it’s too far.”</p><p>“Jabba’s everywhere. So are Imperials.”</p><p>“Except the desert.” El switched on the ignition and the display lit up in green. He climbed on, hooked the supplies to the side, shoved his own headscarf back and grabbed the helmet clipped to the side of his bag.  “Come on,” he urged as the bike powered up.</p><p>“The desert?” Mara threw her satchel to the other side and climbed on behind him, shoving her own headscarf back and pulling down her helmet. She narrowly managed to wrap her arms around his waist before the bike lifted up. Tapping the comm activation button, on the side of the helmet, she added,  “We are <i>not</i> going to the desert.”   </p><p>“They won’t find us there,” came his reply at her ear through the comm over the whine of the repulsors. </p><p>"We don't even have supplies."</p><p>"There's an outpost not too far."</p><p>Mara felt that tingle at the back of her neck. They must have put two and two together based on the last signal the tracker sent. A landspeeder, its lights visible several blocks behind subtly gained towards them. "That speeder's awfully interested in us."</p><p>"Hold on!" He hit the thrusters hard as they took a turn, and the acceleration jolted them forward, zooming them between buildings at breakneck speed. She clutched at him, feeling that even strapped in at this speed she was likely to careen off, or they might both end up a dark spot on some stone wall. Whatever speeder bikes had going for in them in speed and maneuverability, they lost through their sheer unpredictability at high velocities.</p><p>The inns had been near the outskirts of the city, a few streets away from Slave Row. El turned away from that direction, swerving away from a group of Duros who yelled out unintelligibly as she and El whooshed past. </p><p>El  was clearly taking advantage of the lack of traffic thronging the streets, gunning the bike. At this hour even the revelers were scant, but Mara's heart sank as she heard a strident <i>pew-pew</i>. She turned her head in time to see a shot whizz past her head and hit the side of a building, sparks raining out behind them.</p><p>Mara snapped out her holdout, and clipped off several shots. She didn’t know if any of them hit, because El threw the bike into another sharp turn into a narrow alleyway, and all she could do was hold on. They plunged under a hover clothesline, and El immediately swung them left, down a wider street, veered between a couple of garishly lit up kiosks. Mara expected he’d decelerate, but instead she could feel the uptick of the thrusters.</p><p>"Slow down!" she yelled as they avoided the edge of a building by inches, cleared a delivery speeder by a hairsbreath. "You're going to get us killed!"</p><p>Another set of shots narrowly missed them, crackling brightly in the dark when they collided with a waste bin. At this speed she couldn’t even shoot back. All her effort was spent clinging onto El, staying on the bike against the push of acceleration. </p><p>"Slow down!” </p><p>“Can't.They’re still shooting at us!”</p><p>The next volley of shots confirmed it. Just out of range, they knifed into another alley, veered into yet another, pulling up barely in time to clear a closed food cart that jutted out. Again, they zoomed through a wider street. Mara had long lost sense of where in Mos Espa they were now, amid the blurring buildings. No more shots came, but their pursuers remained behind them. </p><p>The next street was a blur of streaking pinpricks of light that spit them out into open air.
</p><p>And sand. The desert spread out before them, vast dunes, glowing white under the moons, sloping up like rolling waves. El had decelerated enough that Mara could look over her shoulder. The thugs were about two hundred meters behind them, a bright point behind the sandwall the bike was throwing off. Steep cliffsides rose in the distance.</p><p>Tatooine had water once, Mara remembered reading, and she could believe it as they dove past the dunes, the landscape feeling bizarrely like an ocean floor. The cliffsides loomed at either side of them blocking the moons' light. El dropped them down, taking a straight and narrow path. </p><p>It was near pitch black down in the canyon, the bike’s forward lights giving them a few meters of visibility. Mara’s vidmap automatically flashed up, showing the path would remain more or less straight for a few clicks before it turned sharply right. She only had a second to file that before the bike’s jerky evasive movement jarred her. </p><p>They’d ducked under an enormous rocky archway, El pulling them down even further so the bike almost scraped the ground as it wove between boulders. The vidmap flashed warning lights, alarms blaring in Mara’s ears as they avoided boulders and the occasional outcropping by inches. Cover, Mara realized. He was trying to use the little cover they had. </p><p>She had no time to wonder why before a blinding burst of sparks sliced from their left. Mara lowered her head instinctively as sandstone rained down on them.</p><p>The vidmap flashed again, a warning that the route they were taking was not recommended.</p><p>“You have your vidmap on?” she called through the helmet's comm. “We’re off course.”</p><p>“We’re not."</p><p>Mara didn’t dare look back, but the shooting had stopped. The tingling at her neck hadn't.  </p><p>Alarms from the vidmap kept shrieking, warning lights flashing. “Get back on course!"</p><p>“Don't need to!” </p><p>More outcroppings of rocks and enormous boulders swelled before them and she felt El incrementally slow down, threading between the grasping sandstone. She turned, catching a glimpse of a bright dot behind her. El hit the thrusters, the afterburners kicking in for even more speed. </p><p>“No!” But her objection was swallowed up by the jolt of the repulsors. Wind blasted at her clothes. Control at this speed wasn’t sustainable. El was ignoring the map and their lights barely made a dent in the canyon's murk. “Slow the kriff down!”</p><p>No response from El. He swiftly decelerated in sharp turn right, hard enough the bike swung left, but stopped a few inches short of the canyon wall. Mara's stomach lurched. El accelerated again, and they shot forward. </p><p>The map showed their path narrowing, the canyon zigzagging, but El tore down it on a narrow course right through the middle as he pushed the bike up, gaining altitude, ducking and swerving to avoid the occasional pinnacle. It was just a matter of time before he made some error, Mara thought, her heart power hammering against her ribs. Either they'd end up sprayed against a canyon wall, or at this altitude, end up in a messy splat on the rocky floor.</p><p>A formation swelled up before them, a narrow oval shaped opening in the middle, with jagged rock all around its circumference, a monstrous mouth full of sharp teeth. </p><p>No, Mara thought, her stomach roiling. No.</p><p>"No! Bank left!” she screamed.</p><p>El ignored her again. If anything she felt him push the acceleration more, jamming in the afterburners. Leaning forward and down to adjust his center of gravity. Mara copied him, dread coursing through her as the bike's chassis vibrated. The vidmap was more than flashing, it was fizzing. The narrow swath of their lights only showed jagged knifepoints of rocks.</p><p>Kriff she was going to die, Mara thought, nauseous. She was going to die in this kriffing backrocket nowhere--</p><p>They shot through -- miraculously --  and through another sharp turn, El decelerating slightly as it dropped them in another corridor. He accelerated again, and they were at the middle before Mara heard a sharp burst behind her, rock pelting her. They slowed down enough that she could glance back to see a ball of flame.</p><p>He took a turn that dropped them off into the open desert after a few minutes, and decelerated to a less suicidal speed.</p><p>“Pull over.” </p><p>“It’ll probably be a better idea to keep going before the suns come up,” he countered, but she felt him slow down gradually until he came to a stop. </p><p>Mara removed her helmet and dismounted, her legs wobbling.</p><p>El had taken his own helmet off as well, and was <i>grinning</i>, as if he’d had the best time, going on brightly, “We lost them. Pika Oasis is only a few clicks south for whatever else--” </p><p>He evaded her first swing, but the second caught him square in the jaw, the helmet tumbling out of his hold and landing on the sand with a <i>plat</i>. If she'd planted her feet better she could have thrown him clean off the blasted bike. She should have.
</p><p>“You don’t get to make stunts like that,“ she growled. "This is not the time for a joyride.”</p><p>“I just saved our lives!" He glared at her, rubbing at his jaw.</p><p>"I don’t care what you do in your free time," she went on without pause, "you don’t get to risk <i>my</i> life over some stupid, impulsive--"</p><p>"They would have--"</p><p>She threw her hands up and exploded, "You weren't even following the vidmap!"</p><p>"I don't need to follow that blasted vidmap!" he shot back. "I know this place!"</p><p>"And when I tell you to slow down, you slow down!"</p><p>"And let them catch us? Wouldn’t have pegged a bounty hunter--"</p><p> She jabbed her finger at him. “Don’t do that again.”</p><p>“Do <i>what</i>? Keep us alive?”</p><p>Whatever. She was done wasting time arguing. “The Oasis for supplies, then Mos Eisley.” She grabbed his helmet from the ground and shoved it at him.</p><p>“Too far,” he yanking the helmet back. “It makes no sense to lose Jabba’s people and then go running straight to him.”</p><p>“They’ll be looking for us in the nearest outpost," she said slowly, enunciating the words. Maybe she hadn't made herself clear. "We can’t stop for long. I have contacts in Mos Eisley. We can lay low there.”</p><p>“If it's about laying low, I know somewhere better.”</p><p>"What? Bestine?" For it being the capital, the garrison there had become smaller than the one at Mos Espa, even. Mara wasn't sure she could find a suitable ship to commandeer there -- it wasn't a spaceport.</p><p>“No. There's a cave syst--”</p><p>She let out a sharp humorless laugh. "Are you serious?” </p><p>His eyes flashed. “It's not the kind of thing marked on a <i>vidmap</i>." </p><p>“Oh, of course not,” she retorted, raising her eyebrows. “Being a desert cave. So much better than Mos Eisley <i>and</i> Bestine.”</p><p>"It'll be about a four hour trip to Mos Eisley on this," he tapped the bike, "For you. I gave you some lead time, but Jabba's people will catch up to you. You won't make it." He shifted his helmet under his arm.</p><p>Mara tilted her head, rankled. "<i>I</i> won't make it?"</p><p>"You could drop more credits and try for something faster than this," he continued matter-of-factly, "but the difference isn't that great, even if Pika does have a state of the art bike, which it probably won't, and that still leaves a lot of desert for you to cover."</p><p>She narrowed her eyes at him.</p><p>He gestured behind them. "I've been doing runs down Beggar's Canyon since I was fourteen. I know it. And I know what Jabba does to those who cross him when he catches up to them. I can find my way back to Mos Espa fine."</p><p>"What the hell are you talking about?"</p><p>"That all the credits in the world mean nothing if you're not alive to use them," the zippy tone complete with the trite adage made her want to punch him again. "You won't outrun them. And this time they'll do more than scratch your arm."</p><p>Mara ground her jaw. El could go his way. The credits were his loss. Besides, he'd be of marginal use jittery as a spice snitch. And a tacit ultimatum? Unacceptable.</p><p>All she had to do was get to Mos Eisley. From there she could leave this dustball behind. Four hours through the desert. South. She could do that. </p><p>“We should really get going before the suns come out. You can think it over on the way there.”</p><p>She would have never hired him if she'd suspected he'd be this obnoxious, Mara thought with a scowl. But how many would Jabba send next time? Confronting a group of thugs in terrain she wasn't that adept in wasn't likely to go all that smoothly.</p><p>She could take them...but she might end up limping after. And chances were Jabba would lose trail if they lay low for a couple of days. It'd be easier to get her ship back then, and she wouldn't have to ask for it to get picked up. She'd only have the crew waiting for her to take care of, not that crew, plus whoever was chasing her.</p><p>"You ready?" El asked impatiently. </p><p>"You better not get us lost or you <i>will </i> have to find your own way back," she snapped, climbing back on the bike. There were some advantages to working with hardened criminals, she reflected, thinking of Tannis. Whenever they fussed, you could always make them fall in line much more easily. "On foot."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tatoo I slid up the horizon little by little as she and El flew on, creating deep shadows across the dunes. First dawn as the locals would say. They were heading south, Mara remembered from the map. At one point she recognized Mospic's Gate, but didn't see the skiff. Jabba's people must have come to get it. The discovery made apprehension coil in her gut. They'd gotten rid of their pursuers, but for how long?</p><p>The stillness of the first sun's light across the dunes only made Mara more impatient to get to the Oasis, grab their supplies, and be off. As Tatoo II climbed up at Tatoo I's heels the light became harsher, the view before her flattening under it, becoming an even more barren monochrome.</p><p>Even with the helmet’s protection, Mara’s throat felt scratchy from all the sand and dust by the time several interconnected domes came into view, bright under the now combined glare of Tatoo I and II. Pika Oasis. Already Mara could several large water tankers parked around the largest dome and several vaporator spires in clusters. Before them was a clearing with ankle-level flowering shrubs and gnarled trees, their green a shock after so many shades of dull brown.</p><p>El brought them to a stop past one of the water tankers beside several other vehicles.  Ahead of them was a smallish dome with a printed Aurebesh sign that read "Dannar's Claim." Under it was another worn-looking sign that read “Find all you need at Dannar’s Claim.”</p><p>They dismounted and set out towards it. From the blank expression El wore and the unusual lack of explanation, Mara gathered he was less than pleased. So it was between reckless or sullen like a reprimanded child. Fine.</p><p>He  <i>should</i> think twice about pulling off some idiotic stunt that risked their lives, regardless. And if it was about her punching him for it, well she hadn't left a mark anyway.</p><p>Within the doors was a tapcafe set-up with several luncheonette tables around a cramped mid-sized room. A cantina area and a sundries counter dominated the back end. The kitchens should be there too, judging from the smell of freshly baked bread and boonta spice that wafted out. While not crowded the establishment was more bustling than Mara would have expected, patrons greeting each other in familiar ways.</p><p>Mara stomach grumbled, but there simply was no time. She was about to ask why they entered through the tapcafe when El turned to her. "Did you decide?" </p><p>"Decide what?"</p><p>"Whether we hide out in the Wastes or you go on to Mos Eisley."</p><p>It'd been obvious. "The Wastes -- like I said, don't get us lost."</p><p>He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it, irritation clear across his face. "I'm going to talk to the counterbeings about refueling and provisions. The store should be at the back. We can take a look after I check on the bike."</p><p>He didn't give her a chance to say anything, just went on ahead. Mara shot a glare at his departing back, then dumped her satchel into the nearest empty table and took out her datapad without bothering to sit. The datapad's sensors flashed. There was a connection -- but just as soon as Mara saw that, her spirits crumbled. The signal was unbearably weak. At this rate she'd be lucky if she could send an update tomorrow. Mara put the datapad away and hauled her bag up her shoulder again.</p><p> The counterbeing was a red-skinned, raven-haired Zeltron about their age who was smiling back when El leaned forward, forearms on the sundries counter like he was just another local. Not the kind of species Mara would expect on Tatooine of all places. El said something and she laughed. All the provincial friendliness was a bit much. She wasn't paying him to socialize. He suddenly looked in Mara's direction while speaking to the Zeltron. The Zeltron followed his gaze. </p><p>Mara met their stares evenly as she walked over. She wasn't about to sit down and do nothing until El was done making idle chitchat.</p><p>"You have a fueling station here, right?" Mara asked the Zeltron, who nodded. </p><p>"Two. Number One is full I think, but Two is right beside it at the far end of the compound -- west side," she gestured to her right, "You can't miss it."</p><p>"I'll go take care of the bike while you deal with the supplies," Mara told El, noticing that the shops seemed to be down the corridor behind the cantina area. "We save more time that way."</p><p>"You're not eating?" he asked.</p><p>Mara shook her head. "We're on a timetable." She thought of the ration bar she had in her bag. "So if you're going to have something make it quick." </p><p>"I ordered for both of us."</p><p>"Have them pack mine."  She didn't wait for a reply as she turned on her heel, leaving from where they'd come, the hot air blasting her as she went outside to get the bike. There was considerable movement outside of both vehicles and sentients, but nothing that flagged as Mara moved it to the garages at opposite side of the complex, scrutinizing the layout. Once inside the garage, she picked the fifth bay, which only had a couple of beings milling about. Through the windows, Mara could see a livestock area, several farmhands alongside what looked to be dewback yearlings. 
</p><p>An Anx in a mechanic's jumpsuit interrupted her scanning, and she waved him off with a request for a toolkit and a refill of her canteen. In a place like this, she assumed the mechanics and techs would only be called upon for more specialized work. As she waited, she dug into her bag for the ration bar, done with it by the time the Anx was back. Even with climate control, all the machinery made the area only slightly less sweltering than the oven outside. With a sigh, she got rid of her overtunic and pulled the toolkit over to start on a basic inspection.</p><p>A short while later, she was grabbing the micropressure cleaner and an air filtration mask. The intakes weren't clogged, but there was still considerable silt to clean off. It might not be worth the time it'd take to go through a legitimate cleaning and refueling, she thought as she worked. What made the most sense would be to ditch the bike altogether, rent out another speeder. </p><p>She crouched on her heels, pulled her mask off, and blew out a breath. Did it or might it be more hassle? Their pursuers had crashed in that death trap El had taken them through.</p><p>But that didn't mean that someone <i>else</i> hadn't sighted them at Mos Espa, and that <i>right this minute</i> there were more goons on their way. She'd been sloppy with the lightsaber and that got her into this. Mara wiped off her forehead with her forearm. The safest thing was a new rental.</p><p>"Something wrong with the bike?"</p><p>Mara stood up at El's voice. He must be done getting the supplies which meant she had to decide soon. "Checking the air intake filter." Mara wiped her hands on a nearby washcloth, and raised a hand for the datapad he was holding. "That's the supplies list?"</p><p>He gave her a once over and she fought a scowl, perfectly aware of the stains and smudges on her undertunic and down her arms. Of course the desert had made her a bedraggled, sweaty mess, and she'd been working on the bike. It was to be expected -- and the mere fact that something so asinine was occupying her head made her want to punch both him <i>and</i> herself.</p><p>"I've always used the power spray," he said, looking past her to the toolkit as he handed her the datapad. "It's quicker than the pulse stick."</p><p>"I was doing a preliminary check." Mara set her teeth, eyes scrolling down the list on the screen. The last thing she needed was El opining on her maintenance skills. "I wanted to see how clogged they were before I got into the magafilter."</p><p>"I didn't think they were that clogged. The bike handled okay."</p><p>Was he kriffing challenging her? She raised her head from the datapad. "You didn't get any flightsuits."</p><p>He laughed a little. "Flightsuits?"</p><p>"A flame retardant protective piece of clothing offering moderate temperature control, preferably with armored plating." She tilted her head. "I assumed this was basic knowledge."</p><p>He wasn't laughing at her anymore now. "We're traveling by <i>bike</i>."</p><p>"Across the desert, right." She raised her eyebrows. "And if you're going to redline the bike then it's common sense to be adequately protected in case there's trouble. Fall off and--"</p><p>"It's a 74-Z," he said, testily. "It can take redlinning."</p><p>"Depends what you mean by that. Look at it now." She spread her palm in the bike's direction. "The rake needs tuning, and it only needs adjustments if the gassir valve got hot enough to bend and hit it -- as in engaging the afterburners, and in fact, if the valve deforms enough to hit the piston that's major engi--"</p><p>"It didn't,” El cut her off tightly. "If the rake needs tuning it's because the bike went through the desert, not because of the 'burners."</p><p>"Debatable. Once the afterburners come into play you're on borrowed time."</p><p>"If you're implying I overused the 'burners, you're wrong."  He voiced raised a little at that. "We wouldn't have had enough fuel to get here--"</p><p>"Overuse? Of course not, the RAM would be shot and the tail would be affected." She made a point of dropping her eyes back down to the screen of the datapad in her hands, feigning another perusal of the supplies list. "You kept it under the requisite eighty seconds, at least." </p><p>Mara brought her gaze back up, finding him with that drawn expression. That suited her fine. She wasn't going to be told <i>anything</i> by some Outer Rim yodel. "Just not long enough enough to prevent the gassir valve from sustaining damage, minor as it is." </p><p>Looking back down to the list she slid her finger along an entry in the supply list and tapped it. "What's the need for a 6-2Aug2 hunting rifle?" she continued before he tested her patience again. "Why not an A-280? They <i>do</i> have that, don't they?" She'd have to go over it as soon as possible. It'd been close to a year since she'd dealt with a long-range rifle.</p><p>"I don't think so," El said. "Besides, the slugthrower is what I'm most familiar with."</p><p>She laughed the kind of serrated laugh she'd mastered. Judging by the expression on his face, he'd taken it like every being does. "It's a slugthrower? Go ask, then." She pushed the datapad at El's chest and went for another washcloth which she ran down her arms. "We can afford more than an antiquated crackle gun," she said, shrugging her overtunic back on. What they couldn't afford was something she couldn't use. She'd left all her weapons save her holdout at the landspeeder -- all of the ones she'd gotten at Mos Espa, plus several pieces from her own collection. Another damn setback.</p><p>"If you're outside of the cities it's a good idea to have something long-range," El retorted. "You don't want anything nasty getting close. And outside of the cities long-range blasters aren't that common."</p><p>Mara squared her shoulders. Fantastic. The one subset of weapons not covered in her weapons training. For his claim to be a good shot, she had yet to see El handle a weapon, and it'd be a freezing cold day in this irradiated sandpit before she relegated basic defense to anyone else. </p><p>"A mid-range blaster then." She could handle that easily. An E-11 wouldn't be legitimately sold.  A flechette rifle? No, that probably wouldn't be sold at a place like this either. "A...DC..." She wracked her mind for the older model of the E-11. "DC--DC-15C!" she pinned down, triumphant. Even outposts like this had to have the Clone War era rifle. "Ask for a DC-15C."
</p><p>"Mid-range is not long-range," he cautioned. "You want to spring for a flightsuit for protection, but won't--"</p><p>"Can you go ask?" she snapped, whirling. "What? You getting a kickback to push crackle guns now?"</p><p>"What?" He scrunched his face at her. "No! Are you like this with <i>everyone</i> you hire?" </p><p>"Like what?"</p><p>"Snotty," he said with a glare. "Condescending. Rude. We aren't all swindlers and cheats."</p><p>Mara turned back to the toolkit. Whatever. “I never trained on slugthrowers." She slipped the tools back in. "So there's no point in getting one for me. Mid-range isn't long-range, but it's more range than my holdout. So get me the DC-15C." She braced for the inevitable dig. </p><p>"Why didn't you just say that?"</p><p>It didn't feel like a dig, but still. "I'll keep it in mind for next time, along with using the power spray, thank you." She closed the kit with a hard snap.</p><p> El brought a hand to his face with a half-mournful, half-exasperated sound. "I was trying to help."</p><p>"I don't need any help!" It came out a notch higher than she intended and she winced as several mechanics working at the opposite end of the bay looked over. She turned back to El who had shifted from angry to perplexed.</p><p>"You do realize that's what you hired me for?" he put in neutrally after a moment. "A guide tends to...help."</p><p>She closed her eyes. Okay. Maybe she was a little wound up. "Yeah. Yes," she pushed out after a moment. "This morning has me...out of sorts, I--" The Anx was heading their way, and she snapped her head up, plastering tight smile on her face. </p><p>"Everything okay, miss?"</p><p>"Yes, perfect, I think I'm done here. Thank you." She offered him the toolkit back. "We're in a bit of a time crunch. Could we see your rentals?"</p><p>El turned to her. "Rentals?" Mara bit the inside of her cheek. She should have told him, but El simply looked back to the bike. "Oh," he went on seamlessly before she could intervene, "because of the gassir valve issue."</p><p>Mara nodded, both relieved and surprised at the improvisation -- they both knew the 74-Z was in working order. It'd certainly look strange for them to leave it behind in favor of another speeder without a good reason. She added, "Just to be safe." The rest, she'd explain to El later. Directing herself to the Anx, she asked, "You'd be able to hold it here, right?" When he tipped his head, Mara told El, "All right, I'll go get the extra things while you pick out whatever."
</p><p>"Me?" El squinted at her. "Wait? You're sure -- you don't have anything in mind?"</p><p>Mara shook her head. "No. I just want to finish up soon. I'll come find you when I'm done." She turned to head to the exit.</p><p>--</p><p>Among the native populace Tatooine was known as a planet of rugged individualists. Many came escaping the stifling crowdedness of the Core and Mid Rim. </p><p>“That’s the story anyway,” El told her as they strapped on the supplies to their newly rented bike. She hadn't exactly known what Pika would have in the way of rentals, but had harbored hopes for a SoroSuub landspeeder as she finished with the supplies list. What greeted her was a Nightscreamer bike, an Ikas-Adno model she wasn't familiar with. El had mentioned would be fast and easy to hide, a subtle edge to his tone as if she would press him about it. The chrono loomed large in Mara's mind, and she was still stepping lightly from earlier, so she'd accepted it without a fuss, and just like that, the sharpness was gone. He hadn't rebuffed the flightsuit she'd gotten him and made no mention of the case with the DC-15A. Mara half expected a comment on her misremembering it as a DC-15C, but El hadn't seemed to care. Mara figured they’d hit a truce, sort of. At any rate, El was back to his chatty self. </p><p>The background he was giving her sounded familiar. Tatooine had once been a mining settlement -- that is, until the mining companies found that the planet’s ore didn’t make the grade. An inauspicious beginning to colonization if you asked her.</p><p>“But sometimes they get <i>really</i> off the beaten path. That’s how you get the eccentrics, the weirdos. Beggar’s Canyon,” the place of their nightmare ride early in the morning, he'd told her, “gets its name from all those who were kicked out of Mos Espa. They lived in the caves. But not just there; there’s little dwellings, huts, here and there all over the Wastes especially. As a kid I found a couple of abandoned ones while hiking with friends. Felt like solving a mystery.”</p><p>She supposed she could see the appeal, especially if she were young and there was nothing else to do. “No weirdo came at you with a club?” she found herself asking.</p><p>He snorted. “We scoped them out first, made sure no one was using it. And even when we didn’t find anything, caving was always a good time.”</p><p>Mara pulled a face. She was hardly enthusiastic at the prospect of spending days in a dark hole, but as far as hiding places went, they could do worse than a cave. </p><p>His obvious familiarity with the desert suggested he’d spent considerable time outside of the spaceport -- perhaps he’d grown up at a homestead around these parts like the youths serving the counters or the few she’d seen working at the shop and garages. He <i>had</i> taken his aptitudes. Could be he'd had a rather normal upbringing, or whatever went for normal in a place like this. Something stable.</p><p>So then what? Had he run away? Been thrown out? Why?</p><p>None of her business. It wasn't that this was the first time she'd wondered, it's that she kept wondering, and it threw her focus a little. Take half hour ago. Why should she overreact like that? It was childish. She didn't remember having an outburst like that in a long time.</p><p>It was best to shelve it, get back to the task at hand. It was past midday, thus far there'd been no indication of Jabba's people. Could be a matter of time. <i>Was</i> probably a matter of time.</p><p>“Where you're from in the Core,” he said lightly as they walked back to the shop to pay, “is it one of those packed planet-sized cities?</p><p>Mara nodded and wondered if it was wise to say more. Then again, what was the risk exactly? "Coruscant."</p><p>"<i>The</i> city? The Imperial Center? I don't think I've met anyone from there."</p><p>No, she couldn't imagine anyone from the Galactic City having much reason to come here. She shrugged and amended, “I spent a lot of my childhood there.”</p><p>They'd reached the counter at the shop. No one was there so Mara hit the bell and  glanced at her chrono.</p><p>“You miss it?”</p><p>Mara cocked her head. She missed the comfort of the Palace, the ease she had navigating it on most days, but she wasn’t sure that was what El was asking. “Usually I’m too busy to think about it. Coruscant is still there. Will always be there." She scanned in the direction of the tapcafe, the Zeltron countergirl flitting from the sundries counter to the cantina area and back. The place was short-staffed without a doubt. " You think you’ll miss this?”</p><p>He let out a laugh. “No. I’ve been wanting to get off this rock nearly my whole life. When I leave, I’ll never look back.”</p><p>She was tempted to hit the bell again. What was taking so long? </p><p>“Most of my friends are off planet somewhere, too.”  </p><p>"Like the Academy," she said offhandedly. "That friend you'll track down."</p><p>He brightened. "Yeah."</p><p>Judge Chatoor’s words floated up in her memory.</p><p>
<i>You can kill me—you can kill a hundred like me—but your precious Empire is still doomed. If the Rebels don’t bring it down, it’ll collapse from its own internal rot. And then where will you be, my arrogant young Imperial agent? Your power will be gone, your protectors dead or imprisoned. You already don’t have any friends.</i>
</p><p>The judge had been corrupt and wrong about the Empire, but he’d been right about her. Somewhat. Since seeing the last of LaRone and the rest of the stormtroopers Mara had made her peace with it. She didn’t need friends. Her work was enough. Mara slapped the bell.</p><p>"They're probably out ba--" El broke off, eyes sweeping over the part of the shop they were in. Mara looked at her chrono again. Alarm rang through the Force. She snapped her head up, did another scan around the shop. Nothing felt off. That is, until she glanced towards the security holocams adjacent to the counter. A landspeeder had parked, two green Nikto making their way towards the connected building that housed the tapcafe. They didn't have the conspicuous blasters that had given away the first set of thugs Mara had encountered, but it didn't take much imagination to pick these out as Jabba's newest set. What were the chances of finding a Nikto here <i>not</i> in the Hutt's employ?</p><p>Just then a male Zeltron dashed to their counter apologizing for their wait.</p><p>"Would that be it?" he asked as he presented her with the account. Mara barely looked at his datapad, only placed several heavy credit chips on the counter.</p><p>The livery near the back. They could make most of their way behind the complex, out of sight. Probably unnecessary, with helmets and a new vehicle -- chances were low they'd be recognized among the Oasis' patrons.</p><p>But what had been the chances that Hutt would put a tracker on a <i>lightsaber</i>?</p><p>"I did want to take another look at the dewbacks," she announced, flashing El a weighty look. He seemed to follow. She hadn't had to explain much last time either. </p><p>The Zeltron gave them directions and they exited the compound, carefully using the back of the complex as cover. </p><p>Just as they were lifting off, the two Nikto walked out of one of the entrances. Mara watched them, her muscles tensing. They wouldn't recognize them, she reminded herself, and there was plenty of activity in the Oasis, bikes and landspeeders arriving and departing. A water tanker lifted up a few meters away, about to block the Nikto's line of sight. </p><p>She wasn't going to waste the opportunity. Tapping on the side of her helmet to activate the comm, she said, "That tanker--" </p><p>"I see it." El maneuvered their bike, using the tanker's bulky cargo rig to obscure them until it was safe to peel away.  

Mara let out a sharp breath as the Oasis finally disappeared in the distance.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Jundland Wastes were the northern walls of the highland, jagged hills of bone white rock. If there was somewhere that looked more barren and inhospitable, Mara had yet to see it. </p><p>Their trip had gone without much fanfare after they'd left the Oasis. The desert stretched out flatly for a time before they reached the more rugged terrain of the Wastes with its towering cliffs and canyons, reminding her of where they'd lost their pursuers out of Mos Espa. That terrain had been moonlit and heavy with gloom, this terrain was whitewashed, reflecting the suns' blaze. El eventually lined up the speeder between two outcroppings, radiating the tension she'd felt from him when they'd left the inn this morning.</p><p>"Sand People have settlements further north of here," he told her as they dismounted, which she took as an explanation to his unease. "They attack pretty indiscriminately." He set out to cover the bike with one of the camouflaged tarps they'd bought at Dannar's Claim.</p><p>Tusken Raiders. Mara swept her eye around the ashy rocks around her. She remembered something in her files about savage primitives dressed in what had seemed to her as bandages, riding banthas through the desert, attacking settlers at random. If her holos were right, not much was known about them. Then again given the pattern of violence, how much did one need to know anyway?</p><p>“Always good to be careful,” she muttered and assembled her rifle as he finished covering the bike and affixed a tracker onto it. Her time wasn't great, she thought with a huff, slinging the strap over her shoulder. She'd have to practice later on.</p><p>They were taking what they could carry, which meant a good portion of their supplies were staying with the bike. Mara wasn’t sure where exactly in the Wastes El was taking them, but it shouldn't be far. She should have pressed more, but her mind had the haziness of exhaustion. The sooner they could find a place to settle in, the better.</p><p>She walked behind El as he scanned their surroundings, her boots crunching on the rocky ground. Their path curved as it descended, widening into a passageway with towering sandstone at both sides. There was a faint but disturbing scent of rot and decay in the air.</p><p>"Is it far?"</p><p>“We’ll be able to hike back for more supplies if we need them.” As far as answers went, it was more noncommittal than she would have liked. </p><p>Mara tamped down on her irritation. Two days would do it, she decided. Two days and the trail would be cold. She could get the money she owed El at Bestine, if he was still reluctant to go to Mos Eisley, and then continue on her own, commandeer a ship and be off. It wasn't necessary to go back for her ship at Mos Espa at all. </p><p>Only thing was...it felt too much like running, admitting defeat, turning her smooth mission into something messy because of a blasted <i>Hutt</i> her master could have eliminated with the twitch of a finger. A Hutt had no right to that lightsaber. Chances were that slug didn’t even know what it was, and for him to <i>force</i> her to leave her ship felt like a concession.</p><p>“There,” El broke through her thoughts, gesturing to a darkened recess under a thin rock ledge. She didn’t see the narrow opening until she drew closer and saw that the space hollowed out further, opening up to form an area about the size of a roomy supply room. </p><p>“There’s probably better ones up ahead -- more cover,” he said once they’d sat and put down their cargo. “We can head out and see in a bit.”</p><p>Mara nodded, though this suited her more than fine. She leaned back against the smooth rock wall with a sigh and took a long swig from her water canteen. The cool darkness was a welcome respite from the suns. It might not be high noon anymore, but the arrival of Jabba’s henchmen had sent them scurrying not long past, and the heat had a stifling, oppressive quality out here that she hadn’t perceived while they’d been on the move.</p><p>They hadn’t even walked for that long. Between the heat and the restless night, her limbs felt sluggish. Mara glanced over at El. She was about to suggest alternating watches to catch up on some sleep, but stopped.</p><p>He faced away from her and out the opening, his back straight, visibly tense, certainly more so than he’d been at the Oasis, which seemed odd. They’d left their pursuers behind. She felt no alarm from the Force, so no one could have been following them, not even those desert savages. Was she wrong? Pushing off the tiredness, she reached out further. Still nothing.</p><p>When he didn’t relax as the seconds ticked, Mara leaned forward to see for herself. She couldn’t discern anything out of the ordinary from the scene before them, just the dusty path from which they’d come. Maybe it was just paranoia. Mara went back to her position by the wall. She felt her face and hair coated with sandy grit. Even her eyes felt dry in this blasted heat. She took another swig of her canteen.</p><p>“Something wrong?” she finally asked, closing her eyes. </p><p>“No.” A note of frustration surfaced in his voice. He quieted a bit, as if he were talking to himself. “Just a feeling...”</p><p>She opened her eyes. “A feeling?”</p><p>“I don’t know. Like I’m not in the right place.” He turned to her and smiled in a way that seemed forced. “Crazy, right?” He took a drink from his water canteen.</p><p>She cocked her head. “You’ve been here before?”</p><p>His expression grew sheepish.</p><p>“You <i>haven’t</i> been here before?” </p><p>“I know the...area.” El lifted a hand. “I told you I spent some time around here as a kid.”</p><p>“But not recently,” she pushed.</p><p>A second of a pause. More sheepishness, a tight smile. “Not recently.” </p><p>Mara rubbed at her face wanting to groan. Wonderful. </p><p>“You’re going to deck me again, aren’t you?” </p><p>“Don’t be stupid. This doesn’t merit that.” And it didn’t, because while hiding out under this overhang was hardly optimal, they weren’t forced to stay here. They had a working bike and supplies for several days -- and they weren't that far from either. Should be enough for things to die down. At the very least she could catch up on some sleep. “I guess we get comfortable here.”</p><p>“No.” Mara’s head snapped up at the negative. El was looking out again, voice certain. “We can’t stay here.”</p><p>She narrowed her eyes at him. What now? “Why not?”</p><p>He turned back to her, his expression shifting from certainty to that sheepishness, some murkiness in his blue eyes. “I don’t know. We just can’t.”</p><p>“‘We just can’t’,” she said slowly after a moment, resolving not to lose her patience and make a fool of herself again, “isn’t a reason to go walking out in the desert without a destination.”</p><p>“I know how it sounds.“ That undertone of frustration was back. He extended his hands. “Believe me, if I didn’t have this...feeling I wouldn’t suggest it.”</p><p>“You don’t go out wandering through the desert on a feeling.”</p><p>Annoyance crossed his face, his brows furrowing. “You think I don’t know that?” </p><p>“I don’t know." She couldn't keep the sharpness off her tone. "Maybe you <i>forgot</i>.” </p><p>“I didn’t.” He stood suddenly. “We should go.”</p><p>“No.” To his aggravated look she reasoned, “We have a perfectly suitable shelter. We have supplies. We don’t need to go looking for anything else. This will do fine for the time being. It’s not that long.”</p><p>“It’s not safe here.”</p><p>“All right and you know this how?"</p><p>More reluctance from him. "I just do."</p><p><i>She</i> wasn't feeling any alarm and she certainly wasn’t feeling like a grand tour of the Wastes for no good reason. "For the time being," she repeated. "We stay."</p><p>He gestured her up. "Come on."</p><p>"You haven't given me any concrete reason. I'm not about to go meander along the blasted desert because you have some paranoia or nonsense. Who knows what is out there, or if there’s another suitable place to camp out at. If there isn’t we’re just going to end up --" The back of her neck started tingling. She shoved herself to her feet and went for her pack and rifle, ignoring his baffled look. “Let’s go.”</p><p>Mara waited for needling, but he said nothing, only went ahead. They’d walked down the wide rock-strewn path for a few minutes before a rumbling resounded, growing louder, the gravel and bedrock shaking underfoot, dust rising up. Whatever it was, it was big. Mara began reaching for the rifle.</p><p>“What--” she half blurted out as El yanked her forward, a hand on her arm, and they broke into a jog towards the walls of the canyon. </p><p>An earthquake? El pulled her beside him, their backs flat against the rock, his arm across her torso to block her from moving forward. </p><p>She wasn’t planning to go anywhere. Craning her neck, she could see something, an enormous rounded outline through the haze of dust. As the rumbling grew louder, the shadows began taking distinct shapes. Massive horned, hairy quadrupeds. </p><p>Banthas. </p><p>Many of them, more than a dozen. From calves the size of the speeder up to a house-sized adult, the full herd tramped down the canyon, faster than she could think possible for animals that size. As they neared, the rumbling resembled nothing so much as the landing of a freighter. The shape of the canyon curved several meters above the herd, a spray of falling rock and debris landing several feet from where she and El were, disappearing down the descending path. </p><p>A sudden fit of coughing had her bending at her waist over El's arm. As she straightened, El reached over to tug at the bottom of her headscarf, raising it up to cover her mouth, his knuckles brushing against her cheek.  </p><p>Mara jerked away, uncomfortably reminded of his fingers at her cheekbone as they kissed. Had that only been last night? His expression was neutral as he gave her more space -- what she could see of his hooded eyes. But of course, he’d be too professional to have <i>his</i> thoughts veer elsewhere. He’d already pulled his own scarf up, Mara noticed with more chagrin. It should have been the first thing she should have done.</p><p>Mara turned her attention to the banthas. The herd appeared larger than she had imagined, their movement displacing rock and dust. A good while later, the last of them had vanished, becoming nothing more than an outline through the haze. El gestured for them to move back into the path. </p><p>Mara looked back to where they’d left, but the opening was virtually swallowed by fallen rock. Rock that could have squashed them like a pair of stone mites. El met her eyes and shrugged irritatingly, but at least he didn’t say anything. They went on, following the way the bantha herd had taken.  </p><p>After a few minutes, Mara pulled down the lower part of her headscarf to ask, “Do bantha herds always move like that?”</p><p>El shook his head, gaze focused on something else as he trudged forward, the path he was taking diverging towards a narrow corridor that ascended. He pulled his headscarf down offhandedly. “They weren’t stampeding, just passing through.” </p><p>He didn’t add more and they climbed up in silence. The incline grew steeper and Mara squinted as the cliffs grew shorter.</p><p>“But they do stampede?” She gave a reflexive look back. </p><p>“I guess if they happened on a rock hornet’s nest or something. Rock hornets are territorial and aggressive -- enough to make a herd clear out quick. Stampeding isn't common, really."</p><p>Mara felt the dismay on her face. An insect that could make something as big as a bantha rush out.  “How big are these...rock hornets?”</p><p>El raised a hand, closing a fist, and Mara grimaced “They build nests in hidden away crevices. You don’t see them often.”</p><p>“Reassuring,” she muttered under her breath. </p><p>“In a place like this,” he continued with that same distracted air. “You’re more likely to encounter womp rats, but those are easy to kill.”</p><p>Those she knew about from her holos. They seemed no less pleasant.</p><p>"The ones that caused that epidemic a while back?"</p><p>El turned his head sharply to her. </p><p>She could read the question -- how did she know -- and she chose not to answer. Of course it’d been in her files, the Imperial prefect mounted a campaign to eradicate them; the holos had a lot of detail on the public hygiene campaign. Too much; it'd been a little boring to hear on and on about how grateful the populace had been. "Carriers of some nasty disease. There was a whole movement for population reduction, right?"</p><p>"Yeah." A beat later he added. "An agency was giving out ten credits a head. I paid for some T-16 parts with that." He looked at her again and smiled one of his usual bright smiles, losing that aloofness he'd had since they'd arrived. "They make good target practice."</p><p>Mara found herself smiling back. "That's how you learned to shoot?"</p><p>El nodded. "Mostly."</p><p>She was tempted to point out she hadn't actually seen him shoot anything. "That’s why you wanted that?” she said instead, gesturing to his slugthrower.</p><p>"They can grow up to six meters. You need more firepower to put them down with one shot. A long range blaster rifle would be fine if you could find one, but maintaining it would be a hassle and half with all the sand and dust. If something got fried, the parts would also be annoying to track down." He laughed at the expression on her face. "I rather the cannons on my T-16, to be honest."</p><p>He'd mentioned it quite a bit. "Spent a lot of time on that thing, didn't you?"</p><p>El actually blushed. Or she thought he did, it was hard to tell with them going up the path in this heat, but she heard defensiveness when he replied, "It was the closest I came to real piloting. Being airborne." </p><p>A brief pause and he added quietly, "I wanted to go further, leave the planet entirely." He turned to her, his smile edging to that casual self-deprecation. "But it was just a T-16, you know?"</p><p>Mara wanted to ask more. Would he rebuff her if she asked where he’d come from? But there was no real reason to ask. His background had no bearing on anything. More likely than not it was a tragic story -- no one chooses to make a living hustling in the streets. It didn't feel right to indulge that kind of curiosity. </p><p>The afternoon was wearing out by the time they reached the top, the path opened up to the desert again. Mara couldn’t see any adequate shelter, and without the towering cliff sides, they’d still be walking under the two suns. It might not be as stifling as it’d been, but without cover, it wouldn’t even matter. It'd be another way of burning up.</p><p>Mara looked back to the way they’d come with a sinking feeling. There was nothing there and they'd lost the last place. “We should go back--”</p><p>“Wait.” Something decisive in his voice gave her pause. El was looking out with such intensity it seemed eerily as if he were listening to something she couldn’t hear. Mara scanned the landscape again, slowing down this time. A glint under the glare of the suns, like a spire, almost melding with the whitewashed stone caught her eye.</p><p>“That’s it,” he whispered. Somehow Mara didn’t think it was for her benefit. </p><p>“That’s what?”</p><p>He blinked, that distant look in his eyes clearing. “Looks like a dwelling. Desert hut.”</p><p>“Dwellings,” she reminded him. “Tend to have beings in them. Beings who might not want to be disturbed. Who might even give you a good blasting for trespassing.”</p><p>“Less likely than you think.” El went on ahead.</p><p>Mara drew forward reluctantly. He had mentioned finding dwellings in the canyons, but it couldn’t be this easy. Was he retracing his steps to a place he’d happened upon before?</p><p>As they neared she could see more clearly it was a dwelling, albeit one that seemed to blend in almost completely with the rock formation around it. Given that, it must be made out of a different material than the dwellings in the city.  This close she could make out that the spire she’d seen was the top of a solitary moisture vaporator, and in front there was the square shape with a domed roof that was the common architecture of dwellings here. </p><p>“Hello?” El called as they came to the plasteel door. He went to knock but the door slid open with a rusty creak. </p><p>Mara didn’t feel any presence inside. Habitual caution had her taking advantage of El’s hesitation to edge forward into a narrow foyer-- he might be a local in this nightmare of a planet, but she was the one with training, and even if he had been here before, from his demeanor it was clear it hadn’t been recently. The air within smelled stagnant, indicating it hadn’t been used in a while, an observation backed up by the thick layer of debris, sand and dust on the floor. It <i>had</i> been a dwelling once, a cramped one. Off to the left, past three steps, there was a stove and a decrepit cooling unit above it. Beyond it was a living area with an overturned stone table at one end. Near the carved openings that stood for windows was a workbench without any tools. That coupled with the debris --  a mix of broken parts, dessicated foodstuffs, and even torn cloth -- gave it the impression of having been ransacked. The fact there was still a stove and a cooling unit, even if worse for wear, meant it couldn't have been abandoned for that long. She went past El who was surveying the living area.To the right of the three steps was a tiny refresher station, past it, she guessed, would be a kitchen.</p><p>"Feeling like a detective yet?" Mara turned back to El and slid off her pack and the rifle, shoving them against the wall. “I don’t think we’re the first to find this place though. You’d been here before?”</p><p>There was an odd look on his face. “I haven't.”</p><p>“What is it?”</p><p>He shook his head. “Some kind of deja vu. I don’t know.” El looked around again.</p><p>Weird. “Maybe the set up is like somewhere else you’ve been."</p><p>“Well, it beats a cave.” And <i>that</i> was a needling look if there was one. Mara ignored it, in favor of examining the rest of the room more closely. Whatever there had been of value had long been stolen. She heard El go towards the foyer, a short while later, she heard a high grinding sound. </p><p>“Find anything?” Mara called, going over.</p><p>A shelving unit had been moved aside displaying a trapdoor, the few steps below the opening led to darkness. A click -- the cellar couldn’t be that much bigger if she heard that -- and she saw a light come into being. El’s glowrod. She took the steps down. The room was even cooler than the rest of the dwelling, the musty smell stronger. Along the shelves, she made out tools covered with dust and cobwebs, a metal pipe, a workbench lit up by the glowrod’s beam, El's darkened outline stood a couple of feet away.</p><p>“Scavengers didn’t get down here, huh,” she noted. "How'd you find the trapdoor?"</p><p>“It wasn't that well-hidden and there was no cistern on the main floor.” The beam of light illuminated a large cylindrical container lying horizontally. "So it had to be in a cellar. From outside you see the piping running down from this side."</p><p>He'd said it matter-of-factly, but it hadn't taken him long at all. She heard something close to excitement in his voice as he continued, the beam sliding back across the tools. “There’s a good set of tools here. Bet I could probably get the vaporator outside working with them.”</p><p>Too good to be true and highly unlikely, besides. “Going by the state of this place, I wouldn't hold my breath. Who knows how long it’s been since it worked.” Mara scrutinized the workbench. Metal. No doubt scavenged itself. </p><p>“They’re hardy. What it looks like on the outside doesn’t matter. Any one of those has enough inner components to last decades.”</p><p>Mara rubbed at her forehead. Water would be an issue, but not a terrible one. “We can go back for more water tomorrow.” The bike wasn’t that far. It'd feel even less so especially once she’d rested a little.</p><p>“Not <i>running</i> water.”</p><p>She scoffed, too tired for this shavit. “Be serious, El.”</p><p>“I’m going to fix it,” he said cheerily.</p><p>She made a dismissive noise.  A bike was something, a blasted <i>moisture vaporator</i> was something else. You needed specialized knowledge for that, but he could go waste his time if he wanted to. Maybe he just wanted something to keep him occupied.</p><p>If he wanted busywork, just cleaning up the main living area would fit the bill. Mara was half tempted to suggest they do that, but was all too aware of the heaviness in her limbs. El had given no indication of being tired, but he was used to the heat, in conjunction with long nights. Like last night. She fought a twist of her lip at that with exasperation at herself. Best to rest before her thoughts started wandering. They could deal with the hut once she’d rebooted, make it a little more hygienic for the few days they’d be here. In a bit though.</p><p>“I’m going to get some rest," Mara announced, turning on her heel and going up the steps back to the main floor. </p><p>There was no formal bedroom in the dwelling as far as Mara could see, only a sitting area, an alcove, that accommodated maybe two to three humans sitting down -- or one lying horizontally. Mara shrugged internally. She’d expected to sleep in a far less comfortable place. Pulled out her bedroll from her pack, she slipped it across the alcove and let herself drift off.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The temperature had gone down somewhat by the time Mara woke. She sat up in quasi-darkness, scant purplish light trickling from the small openings carved into rock that functioned as windows. She'd left the glowrod at the round stone table beside the alcove. Mara slid her legs off the makeshift cot, her boots crunching on all the junk on the floor and reached to click on the glowrod.</p><p>Was El still outside? She couldn’t hear anything, but went towards the dwelling’s door. The suns hadn’t fully descended into the horizon, but she didn’t linger to stare at them, opting to loop around the hut and walk towards the glowrod-supplied illumination to her right. She found El there, the glowrod at his feet on the highest setting as he worked with something on the antiquated vaporator, the small crate of the tools they’d found at the cellar by his feet.</p><p>“Still here?” </p><p>“Almost done.” Whatever he was adjusting made a squeak and he closed the access panel, squatting to get a screwdriver, before turning his face up to look at her. The glowrod’s light washed over his face, catching on the full curve of his lower lip.  “Had a good nap?”</p><p>“Whoever lived here did no entertaining,” she commented dryly. </p><p>He flashed her a lopsided smile. “Desert hermits don't usually.”</p><p>“We should work on figuring out the sleeping quarters -- that alcove barely fits one.”</p><p>He made an acknowledging sound as he secured the access panel. “Take the alcove. I’ll just move the table. Should be enough floor space for me.”</p><p>She pulled a face. The dwelling’s floor was littered with detritus and sand from the outside and from the broken pieces of junk the scavengers had left. Sleeping on the dirt out of necessity was a different proposition from sleeping on a dirty floor that could be made hygienic. If they were going to hole up here, the first thing to do would be to get it to some acceptable level of clean. </p><p>Mara opened her mouth to say so, but closed it as El turned back to the tools. Cleaning wasn’t urgent and she could always get a head start on it, so she left him to continue fiddling with the vaporator and went back inside. She went to the kitchen, taking the stairs down to the cellar. She lifted her glowrod, sending spindly arachnids scurrying into the dark. A durasteel pipe ran the length of the ceiling and she tracked it, finding it connected to the water cistern. A sonicmop and an aspirator leaned up against it, an old boa trunk beside it. She almost reached for them, but decided to give the room another once over. Turning, the boxy shape of the auxiliary power generator came into view across from the cistern.</p><p>This took precedence over tinkering with a vaporator that looked older than the First Hyperspace War. She crouched down to get a closer look. Secondary generators were easier to work with; there was a chance they could actually get some power in the place. El had taken the tools, so she went up to grab her own set from her pack. </p><p>Opening the generator up, she examined the wiring. The connectors were only minimally degraded, a testament to upkeep. It couldn't have been longer than a year or two since they were given a routine cleaning. Mara looked in further and felt a wave of disappointment. The fuel cell was utterly spent. She sighed, then lifted her glowrod. To the generator’s left, there was a keypad safe box, beside it was a work area fashioned from scrap metal. Power cells wouldn’t be the kind of thing to store in a safe, so she went back to the trunk, a cloud of dust misting up when she opened it. A spiderweb glittered a vibrating arachnid at the center considerably larger than the rest. Mara swept it aside with the glowrod. Nothing inside, save what looked like an old journal. Quaint. She pulled it out directing her glowrod to it, a telltale grove sloped down at the front. Fingerprint lock. Probably would erase if anyone blunt-forced it. Strange for a desert hermit to be so paranoid about a diary. </p><p>Worthless to her at any rate. She put it back and returned to scanning for where the hermit would have spare power cells. In front of the swivel chair she spied some drawers and after crouching down clearing out several more mossy cobwebs she smiled at the neat row of cylinders before her. There.</p><p>Quickly, she grabbed one and set to work on replacing the old power cell. Her back was aching a little when she was done but when she started it, the cellar lights came on. She looked up in time to see El walking down the stairs. </p><p>“I was going to get to that,” he said with a grin. </p><p>She stood up and dusted her hands, wiping them on a washcloth she'd brought with the tools. “Done playing with the vaporator?” </p><p>His smile turned just a bit smug. “Yes. I mean, we’ll have to let it do its work tonight, but we should have water tomorrow.”</p><p>She flashed him a skeptical look, not falling for it -- but fine she could play around too. "Good thing the power generator gets the sonic working to tide us until then."</p><p>That was a total smirk, his blue eyes shining. "But we should do something about upstairs. I don't suppose you saw any sonicmops or aspirators around here?"</p><p>--</p><p>There wasn't a lot of ground area to cover on the main floor, so they were done by the time Tatooine's moons were fully up in the sky. The stove would need more work, but the refresher’s sonic, ended up serviceable, albeit slow.</p><p>He was still keeping up the charade of them having real water by dawn, downright self-congratulatory, even.  As annoying as that could be, with the hut clean and well-lit, Mara was in a good enough mood to go along with the running joke. It only seemed to amuse him more. </p><p>“You really had no idea this was here?” she asked as they sat on the alcove, the small round table before them. Mara leaned back against the wall behind the arch, the blanket around her shoulders, just as El's was around his.  El had taken one look at the decrepit stove, still silent and cold despite the low-key hum of the generator, and consigned it to tomorrow. Mara hadn't argued.</p><p>His eyes clouded slightly. “Not this one specifically.”</p><p>Mara munched on her bar, thinking of his unfocused expression as he stared out towards it and before with the banthas. El had uncommonly good instincts. A place like this must hone them. “Lucky, then.”</p><p>“I guess.” For how smug he'd been about the vaporator, he seemed oddly taciturn about finding the hut as if reluctant to take credit. </p><p>“That hermit who lived here,” Mara continued. “You think he was a scavenger, too? Like Tizzy?" She lifted her palm around the room. "Doesn’t seem like a prospector.”</p><p>“Could be.” El drank from his water bottle and Mara’s eyes were dragged down to his throat. She yanked her gaze back up to his face as he seemed to think back.  “All sorts of things come and go in the desert.” From his offhand expression she gathered it was an idiom of sorts. “The <i>Spice Siren’s</i> wreck isn’t too far from here --Old Republic freighter. I thought it was mostly picked clean, but maybe that’s why he’s not here anymore. Maybe he's moved on to somewhere else.”</p><p>That was a cheerier thought than him having wasted away alone here, or perhaps gotten so fed up he'd vanished into the desert with no destination. Mara's holodocs had been full of depressing stories like that. She was reminded her of that ludicrous book. "Oh, I found a journal down at the cellar. Old style with an improvised fingerprint lock if you want to play detective again.” </p><p>“Fingerprint lock -- really?” He wrinkled his nose a little. “Probably only random scribblings.”</p><p>"Lot of trouble to cobble up a fingerprint lock for random scribblings. If this scavenger had been that sentimental he could have just taken it with him."</p><p>El shrugged. "Eccentrics. He might have wanted to take it with him at one point, and then forgot."</p><p>Mara snorted. "Or woke up and realized his desert poetry was really <i>that bad</i>."</p><p>"Rigged up a fingerprint lock so no one else would be subjected to it." He nodded solemnly. "Public service."</p><p>One look at his too-serious expression and a chuckle broke out of her. The grin he gave her was again that catching sort, but it was already too late to do anything but go with it.</p><p>After dinner they'd pushed the table into the end of the living area and found there was ample room to set up El's bedroll. At any rate, after one week of sharing a bed they now had separate sleeping arrangements. That should count as some improvement, Mara supposed. It would be ridiculous for her to feel anything but relief over it.</p><p>"How long you think we'll stay?" El asked, his voice hushed in the dark, after they settled in for sleep, the lights off, vague illumination from the carved windows playing haphazardly on the walls.</p><p>"A couple of days, let the trail grow cold," she finally said. Possibly more. She frowned. More would require a trip to the Oasis for more water. The thugs who’d tracked them to the Oasis -- if they were smart -- one of them would be waiting there while the others would be looking for them in the closest cities, Bestine and Arnthout. </p><p>"And then what?"</p><p>"Then I need to get off planet." She thought for a moment. "We could try doing the credit transfer at Mos Eisley. A little far, but they're less likely to look for us there. You could leave through there too."</p><p>A fraction of a pause. "I'd rather...not."</p><p>He hadn't been exactly pleased with the idea before, but he hadn't explained. "Why?"</p><p>“I...had a bad experience there.” His tone was far more reluctant than she’d heard. Mara could feel his refusal to say more.</p><p>"We could split up," she offered. “Stay here, while I go. I’ll come back with what I owe you.”</p><p>“Jabba’s at Mos Eisley.”</p><p>"Well, yes. So are Imperials," she reminded him, still finding it strange the Hutt would have stayed there, would have been <i>allowed</i> to stay there with all the tight security measures. “The city is under martial law. He can’t really do much there.”</p><p>El made a skeptical sound and Mara wished she were talking to him face to face. She briefly considered climbing down the alcove to sit by him on the floor. No, it'd be unnecessary. "There’s rumors...that he’s made a deal with Imperials."</p><p>Mara scoffed. “That’s highly unlikely. Imperials don’t make deals with crime lords. They tolerate them if they have to for political stability -- like you said, you don’t want all out gang wars-- but an actual deal? No. The Empire doesn’t work that way.”</p><p>“What I mean is that it might be dangerous.”</p><p>“Not as much as going back to Mos Espa. Although," she grudgingly admitted, "I’d prefer that. I don’t like the idea of leaving my ship behind.”</p><p>"So let’s wait, then go back to Mos Espa."</p><p>He seemed awfully flippant about it. “They might be expecting me to return to the ship. Might get messy.”</p><p>“We can deal with it.”</p><p>Mara her lips form a smile. It felt different to work with someone else. And yet, she’d been making too many mistakes by being flippant herself. Overconfident, in spite of all her training emphasizing caution and prudence. Her smile vanished. “I don’t know. I still need to get your credits. It’d be easier to go to Bestine for them and then I'll see.”</p><p>“So we wait a few days then go to Bestine,” he replied. “I’m in no hurry.”</p><p>They did have different bike now -- what were the chances Jabba’s goons could track them? She did need more cash credits, especially if she were to return to Mos Espa. Customs wouldn't let her leave without collecting a sizable bribe. Of course, she could play things safe and just go pay El at Bestine, then make her own way to Mos Eisley. That was the more sensible route. Go alone, and commandeer transport with her clearance. Someone from the garrison could track down her ship.</p><p>"Yeah," she conceded. She didn't have to decide on between Mos Espa and Mos Eisley this very minute. “We could try that. You do need your pay.”</p><p>"That's -- that's," El sounded abashed, like he’d said something rude, "not why I suggested it."</p><p>"It's fine."</p><p>"I meant it," he added hurriedly, "when I said I'm in no rush. I--"</p><p>Mara chuckled, did he think this would offend her? "It's okay, El."</p><p>"We can go to Bestine and then Mos Espa for your ship."</p><p>But that wasn't covered, she thought with a flicker of disappointment. The job was done. He'd done right by her. It wouldn’t be fair to ask for more. The risk was considerably higher now. "No, it's best that we separate after Bestine. For your own safety."</p><p>She heard him shift. "That doesn't make sense."</p><p>"Of course it does. We agreed on the job and it's done. It's not right for you to risk yourself further. I can get to my ship fine if I decide to go back. I'm not sure yet."</p><p>He stayed silent.</p><p>"I appreciate the...ethic," she added. "You want to do right by the deal, and that's rare...and admirable." She remembered Tannis, asking to be dropped into the dead of space. </p><p>He'd been no one she'd liked, only a self-interested pirate, but the feeling that sprang up when she thought about him was not too different from the one she got thinking of LaRone and his men, a weird kind of sadness at knowing she wouldn't see any of them again. Missing, she recalled thinking at one point after her mission at the Poln system, she'd missed them.   And she'd had no right to. It wasn't like she'd known any of them personally. They'd only worked for her. Besides it was a pattern now in her missions, to form allies, have partners, and see them go. Never see them again. </p><p>It was for the best. Tannis had been a simple criminal and LaRone and them...they were technically deserters. Traitors. She'd looked into their case after Shelkonwa and decided ISB had won that round, having covered up and disposed of all the evidence as was their wont. She hadn't forgotten. ISB was awful to deal with on a good day, accusing them of making a mistaken conviction probably wouldn't endear her any more to them even if she could prove it. And she couldn't. It'd be her word against theirs. </p><p>She <i>could</i> bring her standing as the Emperor's Hand into play but that would be...unwise. Especially now with the Rebels emboldened after the Yavin fiasco. If anything, it'd be something to discreetly bring up to her master, but the right moment hadn't presented itself. He'd been so busy as of late. The few audiences she'd had since the incident at the Poln system had been brief and impersonal. He did inquire about her state, but it'd felt vaguely perfunctory. She knew very well why. He was concerning himself with the whole of the Empire. She shouldn't even think about bothering him with something so trivial. </p><p>El seemed to detect the morose turn in her mood because he switched the topic. "So you spent your childhood at Coruscant, but then you went to other places, right?" </p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>"Like where?" She heard him shift again on the bedroll. "Chandrila?"</p><p>"Yes." She'd been sent to a blackback hunting party a few years ago to suss out how some senators felt about some proposed legislation back when her master had tolerated the senate. The senators had been dull, and not very given to airing their grievances. <i>The Chandrilan character does not lend itself to this sort of information gathering</i>, she'd written thinking her instructors would lambaste her for her failure, perhaps slate her for self-critique, but the fact remained: she'd need more time and a deeper cover. They'd ended up agreeing and framed it as a learning experience instead. Some settings, some beings require different approaches. "It's not that far."</p><p>"What's it like?"</p><p>"Elegant. They have the most beautiful gardens. Very subdued. More so than the Imperial Palace gardens."</p><p>"What are those like?"</p><p>"Enormous and," she thought of the fountains and the colorful flowing trees. "Breathtaking. Chandrilan gardens give you a peaceful feeling, but at the Imperial Palace all that greenery, it makes you feel small." She stopped herself, wondering if she were making any sense to someone who hadn't been to the Imperial Center. To see that explosion of green surrounded by cloudcutters, surrounded by the most imposing structure in the city, the galaxy. The phenomenally rich and well-bred might have a rooftop patio or two, but her master had the finest gardens in the galaxy as well. The finest everything. That's what power was. </p><p>"What about Kuat?"</p><p>"Also very beautiful." She paused. Even now her stomach did a small twist at the memory. Silis Nuda had been sowing dissension against Moff Kuras. That would have normally not been an issue of Imperial concern but her master had explained that Kuras was lesser Kuati nobility than Nuda. His removal was possible and could grant influence to the wrong factions, imperiling KDY's relationship with the Empire.  Mara's task had been a simple planting of incriminating material. She hadn't realized what her list of tasks had amounted to for weeks until the HoloNet reported on the execution sentence handed down to Toshara Nuda at Kuat for her sister's murder. Mara had been so new to fieldwork then it'd seemed Toshara's stolid holo had been looking straight at her, a mix of rage and grief in her eyes. Mara hadn't been able to read the HoloNet for several weeks.</p><p>"But their orbital array," she made herself say now, forcibly pushing Toshara's face from her mind, "is what's most impressive. It's...massive. You look outside and you see these capital ships as they're being constructed. Unfinished. They look like giant... skeletons. It's hard to describe." She remembered his face as he looked at her ship, the spark of interest in it. "And the planet is full of forests. All human-made."</p><p>"Terraformers."</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>"I've seen the holos." He went quiet as if lost in thought, came back with, "Corellia?"</p><p>"A dump." </p><p>El let out a sharp laugh. </p><p>"I'm serious," Mara insisted, but let out a chuckle of her own. "Never believe Corellians about it. Or about anything. Loudmouths all of them." She looked up into the darkness above her. She'd been sent to dance at the reception of their new diktat as a gift along with her master's condolences for not attending, and the diktat's eyes on her had made her skin crawl. The real objective had been to ferry several datacards with highly sensitive information about CorSec to Coruscant. "I guess the Gold Beaches aren't that bad." Or so she'd heard. She'd been on a shuttle back the next day. "And past the Core there's the Mid Rim and the Expansion Region, the Colonies, and the Western Reaches. It's a big galaxy."</p><p>"I've always wanted to see it." The dreamy note in his voice made her feel strange. What would it be like to see everything for the first time? To go somewhere and see it without holodocs without briefings, or some mission to carry out? Or to not be sent, to just <i>go</i> somewhere, anywhere else?</p><p>It'd be frivolous, a waste of time. Prestige came with obligations. It wouldn't mean anything otherwise.</p><p>"You do find there's pattern," she said, folding her hands over the bedroll. These days she was more likely to be sent to an Outer Rim hellhole or one in the Colonies. "One urban world and another, one jungle world and another. Not that  not worth seeing, but it's not an endless parade of new things. Still, everything's worth seeing once, I suppose."</p><p>Ten thousand really wasn't that much, Mara reflected. Not at the palace where credits were thrown about. She'd never once thought about them or what they could mean to someone else. </p><p>He chuckled. "Even a sandpile like this?"</p><p>"Maybe." She bunched the bedroll's fabric in her hands, smiling a little. "I haven't decided yet."</p><p>--</p><p>"Go go go go!"</p><p>Mara woke up with a start, her hand groping for her blaster before she realized that she felt no danger.</p><p>She turned on the glowrod next to her and El made a sound of protest and turned away from the light. Mara turned the light setting low. El mumbled something and curled up on his side.</p><p>That was... different. She was used to him sleeping like an inanimate object. The day <i>had</i> been a little stressful. Mara clicked off the glowrod and lay back, but sleep eluded her as she looked up to the ceiling.</p><p>"Go go go!" His cry erupted into the still of the night, jarring her. </p><p>She clicked her glowrod back on the lowest setting. El's face was pressed into his pillow. His breathing was weirdly fast, shoulders heaving with it. Nightmare?</p><p>Should she wake him?</p><p>Mara checked her chrono. Daybreak was still a few hours off.</p><p>"Go!" He jerked violently on his bedroll and Mara found herself pushing off from her bedroll to crouch by him. </p><p>"Hey," she called. "Hey."</p><p>El kept shaking his head. "Go! Go!"</p><p>She reached to his shoulder, feeling the dampness of his skin even though it'd been chilly. "You're dreaming. You hear me, El? El?</p><p>He finally opened his eyes, pupils blown dark by the dim light, his face gleaming with perspiration. "Arica."</p><p>"You were dreaming," she murmured.</p><p>"I was?"</p><p>Mara nodded. "Kept saying 'go.'"</p><p>He looked as if he were trying to remember. "I don't know why."</p><p>"Been a long day. Happens sometimes."</p><p>His gaze focused on her. "To you?"</p><p>"Yeah," she kept her tone light, "everyone gets nightmares. Too much running around. Just your head trying to wind down."</p><p>El sat up and passed a hand through his hair. Mara removed her hand from his shoulder, her mind wandering to keeping it there, sweeping it down his arm. He'd woken up from a nightmare. It was wrong. Very wrong. "I'm sorry for waking you."</p><p>He looked up at her with an expression she couldn’t read, the glowrod’s light flickering by his cheek, his lips. If she leaned forward just a little, he’d be close enough to kiss. She remembered vividly how it felt, his lips on hers, the stroke of his tongue, his fingertips at her jaw. It'd only been last night.</p><p>No. She wasn’t doing that.</p><p>"I woke <i>you</i> up," Mara heard him say as she shoved herself back to the alcove and clicked off the glowrod. Her thoughts ran away from her to the twitch of his fingers by her waist, him inside her once her movements smoothed out, the bright burst of pleasure, the way his eyes fixed on her as he made himself come. She could feel a heavy coil of want, that sharp feeling between her legs, but there was an unpleasant vertiginous twist to it this time that made her squeeze her eyes shut.</p><p>This wasn’t the time for that. And besides, she wasn't going to do that again. He'd agree, of course he would. Knowing that made it <i>worse</i>.</p><p>"It's all right," she bit off. "Don't worry about it."</p><p>Had El been staring at her, wondering if she’d ask again? Mara felt her face flame up, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. To be woken from a nightmare by a client demanding sex, she thought. Awful. But really, would it be far off the mark given last time?  It was embarrassing. Last night she’d embarrassed herself saying one thing, then changing her mind out of nowhere, then having it be...clumsy. <i>She’d</i> made it clumsy. </p><p>Mara turned on her side towards the wall. He probably thought that’s why she had to pay for it. Everyone that pays for it has something wrong with them, some kind of deficiency an employee overlooks for profit. That's why the market exists. He would know.</p><p>His voice rose up in the gloom. "Arica--"</p><p>"I shouldn't have hit you. On the bike. Or given you a hard time after at the Oasis. I was tired and I overreacted. It wasn't...civil of me."</p><p>To her surprise, El laughed softly, "I don't think I was having a nightmare about any of that."</p><p>Teasing. He was teasing her. She turned to lie on her back. She copied his dubious tone, feeling just a bit lighter. "You sure?" </p><p>"Positive."</p><p>"You did save our lives," she said quietly, growing more solemn. And he'd made her time here easier by far, all her misgivings and errors aside. She hadn't had to be so heavy-handed about everything. "So thank you."</p><p>There was a beat of silence. "Don't mention it."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“They call them Last-Ditch Lodges,” El told her over breakfast the next day. “Places like this. Made by moisture farmers who thought they could hit paydirt at the uplands. From night time condensation.” He leaned back against the stone wall across from her. “They called them crackpots. Getting a moisture farm up with any kind of serious yield here is more dream than reality.”</p><p>“So it’s just beings being stupid." Mara discarded her ration bar’s wrapper. There was a small square table across one of the pillars beside the living area, but they had yet to use it. She just folded up her bedroll, and they used the alcove as a general sitting area.</p><p>He pursed his lips. “Well, it comes from a theory that if you set up the vaporator in a specific way -- if you have a special setting -- you could get more moisture here on the low season.” He waved a hand. “The clouds are slightly denser here than in the south. And then, after you experiment with one vaporator, you work up to more. But no one has managed it out here. The few that have tried give up after a season, leave something like this.”</p><p>“A Last-Ditch Lodge.” She nodded. </p><p>"Though whoever lived here" El gestured to the room, "doesn't strike me as a farmer. That cooling unit looks ancient -- I don't think I've seen anything like it. Maybe he wasn't the original owner and happened on this place too."</p><p>"Did you look at the journal?" Mara smiled. "Maybe there's a land deed in there."</p><p>El snorted. “No, I --”</p><p>There was a loud clang and a hum. Mara straightened up. “What was that?”</p><p>He beamed. “That’s the vaporator. We have water.”</p><p>Mara flashed him a bored look. “Yeah, okay. Try not to use up all the hot water.”</p><p>That earned her a finger wag. “Skeptics get no water showers.”</p><p>That was enough. She stood from the alcove and crossed her arms. “Fine. Let’s see it.”</p><p>"Nuh uh." He crowed over his shoulder, crossing over to the 'fresher.</p><p>"Convenient," she said, following. "Could it be because this whole," she feigned his drawl, "'I fixed the vaporator' routine is just you--"</p><p>El half-laughed. “I <i>did</i> fix it.”</p><p>“You’re full of it.”</p><p>He tsk’ed. “That’s why you don’t get a water shower.”</p><p>They'd gotten to the refresher station by the kitchen, roughly the size of a ship’s refresher. It was tinier than any planetside refresher she’d seen in a while, making the ones at their ramshackle inns look palatial by comparison. El threw her a goading smile and went in. The door would have closed automatically if not for Mara placing her foot on the frame.</p><p>“I said, let’s see it.” She lifted her chin.</p><p>He waved her over with a careless shrug.</p><p>She mock-scowled at him. “We’re both wearing clothes.” </p><p>Mara caught herself and almost made a face at the suggestiveness, but El simply said, “You don’t believe it’s working so what’s the difference? Unless,” he flashed her a weighty look, "...not so skeptical after all?” </p><p>Mara shoved herself into the ‘fresher. It really was cramped. She was pressed up so close she had to tilt her head to look at him.  </p><p>“Wrong,” she said slowly, watching his eyes dart down to her lips. For a crazy second, she thought he might kiss her. </p><p>“I can’t reach the switch. You’re in the way.”</p><p>She raised her eyebrows, tamping down on the prick of disappointment. “That’s all that’s stopping you?”</p><p>"I mean it will be ice-cold for the first seconds because of the vaporator’s cooling coil, but --”</p><p>“Go for it. Cold showers wake you up faster than caf.”</p><p>He drew closer and looped an arm around her hip to reach for the wall behind her and she didn't mean to flinch, but did anyway.  He stopped and she wanted to kick herself. </p><p>“Just like the maglev," she blurted out. Ridiculous, but it was all that occurred to her at the moment. “It's about this crowded during rush hour. Worse.” Mara hadn’t taken the maglev that many times and never during rush hour. El didn’t need to know that. She met his eyes, trying to seem perfectly at ease, as if having someone this close was completely normal and not a situation where she'd have to <i>make</i> space. “They have droids to shove beings in and a mechanism that beeps when the cars hit full capacity.”</p><p>“Sounds…” He resumed groping around the controls, leaning into her further. In the narrow space that meant her upper back was wedged between his chest and the refresher wall. “Uncomfortable.”</p><p>“Oh, you get used to it.” It wasn't like she didn't want him near. It’d been a stupid reflex for no good reason.</p><p>He stopped again, eyes on her like he was evaluating something. Maybe this hadn't been a good idea. Maybe it'd been a joke she'd taken too far, because the sonic would come on and then what? She should just let it go.</p><p>El cleared his throat. “It <i>is</i> going to be pretty cold.”</p><p>She narrowed her eyes at him. The earnest act was a bit much, a goad in and out of itself. “So you said.”</p><p>“Promise you won’t deck me again?” He tilted his head, teasing tone back, complete with that amused spark in his eyes. </p><p>She let out a put upon sigh. “I apologized for that already, El and it’s a moot point because clearly there’s no--”</p><p>He leaned forward sharply, in tandem with movement at her back, him pressing the switch. Daggers of frigid spray hit her, startling her so much so that she shot forward with an alarmed cry against the warmth of El’s chest, gasping as the water poured down her head, sputtering incoherently. For a second.</p><p>And then she realized where she was...and that he was laughing. Swatting at him, she shoved herself back and out the refresher. </p><p>Mara pushed her soaked hair out of her face. “You--you--preening voorpak!” She accompanied it with a bang on the door for emphasis, hearing him guffawing through it.</p><p>--</p><p>Mara had begun scanning through the stove’s relay control board when she heard the refresher door open. It'd been either that or another look at the garrison files, and for the moment, concrete work seemed more appealing, even if they didn't actually need it. The blankets had been more than enough to ward off the night chill.</p><p>“The stove has a relay control problem,” she called out. "I think."</p><p>“You sure?” He came into view, hair still wet and dripping down his shoulder. He’d put on a tunic, but hadn’t bothered to wrap it. “I’d have pegged it as clogged.”</p><p>Mara had long changed into a new ensemble; the clothing was currently drying outside even if her own hair was still damp. She shifted back as he approached to take a look. “Debris build up?”</p><p>“Yeah." He peered into the dusty recesses of the stove. "Hasn’t been used for a while. Or maybe ignitor issues?”</p><p>Mara went for a scraper from her tool kit and returned. El shifting back to give her space, hands going to his waist to wrap his tunic. She peeled her eyes away and set to work. After a few moments of scraping was clear that wouldn’t do it. The rest of the morning and most of the afternoon slid by in their efforts to troubleshoot. </p><p>“What’s a voorpak?” El asked as he slid the heating element back into the oven housing.</p><p>The nonsequitor made her start from where she’d been testing the temperature sensor. “What?”</p><p>“A voorpak,” he said, eyes flicking up to her. “You called me that,” he tipped his head in the refresher’s direction, “When I got the vaporator working.”</p><p>Mara shot him a sullen look. “When you wet me.”</p><p>El grinned at her. “You brought it on yourself.”</p><p>“Whatever.” She went back to fiddling with the sensor. Given the big to-do, she'd braced herself for more gloating, but he'd been surprisingly restrained, still exceedingly self-satisfied, but not overly celebratory. </p><p>“So what is it?”</p><p>“Small domestic animal.” The light came on again with a reading. "Annoying." She double-checked it with the ambient reader. </p><p>He snorted, and she decided the sensor was working fine. Mara stood, padding over to the datapad she’d left on the table. Clicking it on, she searched through her art folders. Saveli’s <i>Portrait of Onnely Praji</i> showed the noblewoman with one of those absurd creatures. For a second, Mara felt uncomfortable. Would he be offended? It’d just been a joke.</p><p>When she found it she went back, crouching by him. El took one look at the holo on her datapad and let out a chortle. “What is <i>that</i>?”</p><p>Mara laughed too, relieved. “A voorpak.”</p><p>“It looks like hair with legs.”</p><p>And she couldn’t help another laugh, because it <i>was</i> true. “Very popular for a time. Cute, if you’re into that sort of thing, but they --”</p><p>He gave her a look she couldn't parse. “That sort of thing?”</p><p>“Pets. Anyway, they get into everything. I saw one pee on the dancefloor at the Stars Ball the first year I went.”</p><p>El snickered. “No.”</p><p>Mara nodded, grinning herself. “One of the ladies brought it in her clutch.” To his baffled expression she added, “Her purse. I forget who -- could have been one of the Dajaal hags. Brentaalian aristocracy ages ago. I thought she'd gone senile, but no, that's just how they are. They've been in court since the First Galac-- ” </p><p>"You've been to a ball?"</p><p>She waved a hand. "Yeah, a few."</p><p>His eyebrows went up. "As a bounty hunter?"</p><p>Oh. Mara shrugged nonchalantly. "Of course not. Bounty hunting is only part of what I do." She paused, wondering if it was wise to mix her covers.  "My...guardian has some holdings at the Imperial Center."</p><p>"So you're...nobility."</p><p>She made a face. "Not really. It's complicated. So that's a voorpak." Mara pointed to the datapad.</p><p>“And wait, you think they're cute?”</p><p>Mara looked down at the portrait, that hairball sitting happily in its owner’s lap. “Sure. Doesn’t everybody?” She lifted up the datapad at him again. “Don’t you?” </p><p>El’s expression was torn between impatience and amusement. She chalked it up to the odd bird he was and shut down the datapad.</p><p>“I’m going to get a ration bar," she called. "Want one?”</p><p>--</p><p>A pained moan jerked Mara awake, her hand again going for her holdout. She clicked on the glowrod  Below in his bedroll, El was shaking his head. Mara slid her legs over, dropping  to touch his shoulder. </p><p>“Hey,” she whispered. “Hey. You’re dreaming again.”</p><p>El did wake up faster than he had the night before. Tonight the dim glowrod light didn’t hide the embarrassment on his face. </p><p>“Again?” He closed his eyes, rubbing at his forehead. His voice was muffled by his hand when he said, “I’m sorry, this..." Before she could say anything, El had shifted away and stood up, going for one of the blankets they’d left on the table, before turning and walking past her to the steps that led to the door.</p><p>A bit bemused, Mara lay back. Nightmares were out of one's control, not anything to be embarrassed about. He was probably just winding down from being chased a day ago, probably not used to it. It’d go away soon if things kept on as mundane as they'd been. After they’d gotten the stove in working order, El had asked about her art files. Twilight had fallen with them on the alcove looking at the holos on her datapad, with him asking which she'd liked the best. Mara had pulled up a few representatives of their given artistic movement to his puzzled expression until it'd clicked he wasn't taking measure of her taste or education. He just wanted to know what she thought. She couldn't remember the last time that sort of thing hadn't been an occasion to display her pedigree. From there it'd felt strangely freeing.   </p><p>But at one point as they'd laughed over the dozing senator immortalized in the background of <i>Chancellor Salesh's War Speech</i> Mara had thought of his expression in the 'fresher, his eyes on her lips, like maybe he'd wanted to kiss her, and knew she could have been wrong -- or worse, that he might just be affecting all that, and <i>this</i> too.  The easy atmosphere suddenly crumbled, that sick feeling in her gut resurfacing. She’d claimed to be tired and sent herself to the 'fresher, all the while feeling like sludge. After, when she'd settled for bed, lying on her side towards the stone wall, her thoughts hadn’t stopped their relentless wandering, but she had eventually nodded off. </p><p>Now Mara looked towards where El had vanished. Two nights of nightmares wasn't even that long. Mara sat up, grabbed her blanket and followed his path out. </p><p>She found him sitting a few paces from the dwelling, silhouetted by the moons. One was in crescent while the other waxed gibbous, both close to the horizon, stars holding court around them. Even with the blanket, the cold stung Mara's forearms, her neck. A breeze ruffled her hair as she sat next to him on the hard ground.</p><p>“Maybe I should sleep in the cellar or something,” he muttered.“I don’t like waking you.” </p><p>“It doesn’t matter.” And it didn’t. Mara had napped sometime around midday, vaguely recalling El with the tome from the cellar in his hands. He'd spread out his bedroll and been napping himself when she woke, no trace of the journal. She supposed he'd put it back. </p><p>If you want I could...let it run its course,” she suggested. “Maybe it’s the sort of thing that needs to work itself out. I’ve woken you and I don't know, maybe I shouldn't.”</p><p>“How long have your nightmares lasted?”</p><p>“Few weeks, months some of them.” She swallowed. “I do remember them though.”</p><p>“Does that help? I mean, did remembering them make them go away quicker? For you?”</p><p>“I don’t know.”</p><p>El sighed. </p><p>“It’s something to try,” she insisted. “Let them run their course. It hasn’t been that long, just a couple of nights. I won't wake you.”</p><p>“I’ll move the bedroll down.”</p><p>She frowned and hugged her blanket tighter. That should be okay. It shouldn’t matter one way or another where he slept. </p><p>“It’ll be colder down there,” she blurted out.</p><p>“No. The generator’s there.”</p><p>Of course, she thought self consciously. Obvious. She looked down at her lap. </p><p>“I’ve had nightmares, but it was a while ago,” he volunteered. “When I first got to Most Espa. Stuff you see looping around in your head.”  His voice lowered as if he were speaking to himself. "This feels different."</p><p>She shivered and it had nothing to do with the cold. “And how long did it take for those to go away?”</p><p>“Back then? I didn’t keep track. I didn't really know the city and I started from zero a few times so just…I didn't keep track."</p><p>“Started from zero?"</p><p>"Robbed of all my credits."</p><p>"Oh." She didn't quite know how to respond at first. Her stomach lurched, thinking of his scars. A disgruntled client, she'd thought, but it could have been a mugging too. Several. Could have been both. "I didn't keep much track of my nightmares myself. It was always the next mission. Or the next. Didn’t really matter if I was sleeping or not things needed to get done and I had to get them done.”</p><p>El looked over at her. “Mission? Your boss is one of those?”</p><p>Blast it. Mara looked away feeling her face burn from the miss. “Job. I don’t know what you mean with 'one of those.'”</p><p>He paused. “I know of two kinds of bosses. One is upfront, and it’s profits and that’s it. Business. Then there’s the second type, that one is about…”</p><p>“About?”</p><p>He seemed to be looking for the right expression. “Having things," he said finally. "Not necessarily to sell. Could have all the water or fuel on the planet and just as easily get rid of it. Dump it all. Makes sure everyone sees it.”</p><p>Mara gave him a weird look. “Why?”</p><p>“Because they can. A statement, I guess. Thinks of themselves as more than a boss, some kind of ruler. Doesn't have henchmen or guards, has soldiers. Doesn't give out jobs, gives out missions.” </p><p>She shouldn’t say more. But El wouldn’t know, would he? He wouldn’t even assume. His life was too far from hers.</p><p>“The man I work for is -- he’s not like either of those."</p><p>"You're happy working for him?"</p><p>It was an odd question. Happiness was trivial. She felt... fulfilled for belonging to something that expansive and...noble. Honored. El wouldn't understand, so Mara nodded.</p><p> "Don't get me wrong." And she didn't know why she continued, "Nothing's perfect."</p><p>"No?"</p><p>Mara clasped her hands at her lap, slid her thumb over her palm. “We had some...trouble recently. Took a hit and...he hasn’t been the same since then. A little more vigilant.” It felt like sacrilege to say out loud even under cover. “But anyone would be in that situation. So many people died. We haven’t even made them pay for it. Not yet.”</p><p>“Nothing good comes out of those wars," El said suddenly, gathering vehemence with each word. "Jabba moving from Mos Espa meant all the two credit gangs thought there was a shot at taking control. If it were Mos Eisley, Bestine or Anchorhead maybe the Imperials would care, but Mos Espa hasn’t been on anyone's map since podracing was declared illegal way back. So the Imperials don’t care and Jabba doesn’t care, and the gangs just kill each other. It dies down for a few months, then something happens and you’re back to hoping more kids won’t get blasted up in the crossfire as they're buying a bliel.”</p><p>Her head snapped towards him. “That’s not true.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“That the Imperials don’t care.”</p><p>There was a fraught silence, El looking straight ahead into the dark before them. “I don’t want to talk about Imperials.”</p><p>She wanted to challenge the statement, but thought back to <i>starting from zero</i>. Sentients fell through the cracks all the time. It was impossible to secure the well-being of everyone -- even in Coruscant, the undercity was full of beings who were just surviving. Skepticism was understandable. Misguided, but understandable.</p><p>“No one wants war," she said softly. "Who I work for least of all, he knows the cost, but someone’s got to make sure everyone is doing their part. Violence happens when no one is in charge. Then it’s just gundark against gundark.”</p><p>“And that someone is him. Head of everything.”</p><p>“It's not like that with him," she chided. "He cares.”</p><p>“You sound like <i>you</i> care about him.”</p><p>She let out a quiet laugh. “Of course I do. He raised me.”</p><p>El turned towards her again and there she felt his surprise. "Your boss raised you? He's...the guardian you talked about? Holdings at the Imperial Center?"</p><p>Mara nodded, feeling a little uneasy at how quickly he'd called up what she'd said. Had she said too much? “He took me in when I was a child."</p><p>"Your parents?" </p><p>"I barely remember them. But my --”</p><p>“But you do remember?” He leaned towards her, even in the dim light Mara caught the intensity of his expression. </p><p>“Not a lot."  She'd never told this to anyone. Probably, she realized, because there’d never been anyone to tell. But surely, hers was a common enough story for someone like him. Could be <i>his</i> story even, an orphan forced to get by on the street. "Just that they didn’t want me to go, but I had to. My...boss -- he didn't just take me in, he gave me the best. He had me trained, personally oversaw it. And then he gave me this -- this job. Well, I wanted it and earned it, but he made it possible.”</p><p>El stayed silent for a long moment. “And you like working for him.”</p><p>"It's not about liking it." El put things so simply. "It’s that I believe in it. In him, but also his...vision. It's not about selfishness or profit. It's about...giving beings what they deserve. It's fair when most everything around the galaxy isn't."</p><p>“That's...not what I'd expect to hear from someone who works for a core world kingpin."</p><p>"He's not --" Mara tamped down on a reflexive push back. Her master didn't deserve the label, not even close to it. El just didn't know and she'd already made enough of a mess out of her cover. She didn't know why. The more sensible thing would be to keep silent about anything and everything personal. That was basic and she kept on forgetting.</p><p>She sighed and passed a hand through her face. Not forgetting. Ignoring common sense. She <i>wanted</i> to keep talking. It'd felt...good before when it'd just been about trivial holos, and even now, in spite of the gulf between them. Even if he weren't interested deep down. It was why her mouth spilled out, "He's not even from the core, you know."</p><p>"And he scored holdings in the Imperial Center?" was El's breezy response. "Now <i>that's</i> a success story."</p><p>Mara closed her eyes and chuckled, shaking her head. He really didn't know. And she was an idiot. "What I mean is it's a big galaxy. Not all of us who work underground are unprincipled mercenaries.”</p><p>He turned towards her, serious all of a sudden, his hand on her arm. "Wait, I don't think that about you. I really don't. If --"</p><p>"I hope not." She gave him a small smile, clenching her hands on her lap at the impulse to slide her hand over his. A complete idiot.</p><p>"Just that I've seen too many working for someone else here," El added quickly, dropping his hand. "Having to give someone else a cut. You owe too much and you may as well belong to them."</p><p>She did belong to her master, but that was entirely different from belonging to a filthy Hutt or some other crime lord. She belonged <i>with</i> her master. That made all the difference. "<i>You</i> don't. Right?"</p><p>"For now. Sometimes you wonder how long you can start over. What happens if your luck runs out like everyone says."</p><p>Mara shook her head. "I don't believe in luck, El."</p><p>"No?" El asked, his voice back to his usual lightness, turning to her. "What do you believe in, Arica -- apart from your boss and his vision?"</p><p>She didn't think anyone had ever asked her that question.</p><p>"I don't know...being too hard-headed to quit, I guess." She would have taken it with good grace if he'd been more celebratory about the vaporator. He'd have been entitled to it. Mara looked out at the moons. "And proving everyone wrong."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My gratitude to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangeallure/pseuds/strangeallure">strangeallure</a>. I hit a bump two chapters ahead which made me pause on this one. We might be back on track.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The hike down the canyon for extra supplies went by faster now that they had the tracker and knew where they were going. As convenient as the vaporator was, it didn't provide enough to drink, so their supply run continued as she'd set it. Mara felt no alarm as they went down the rocky hill. El had told her Bantha herds preferred the open space of the dunes to the Wastes, but if there were enough calves they tended to look for shelter. That could have been what they'd witnessed last time. </p><p>"And despite all that she tells Lady Xeter that she doesn't want to work for her." It's a harmless story, an exchange for an equally harmless story he'd told her about Jawas cheating everyone under the two suns.</p><p>El pulled a face. “Tells her straight?”</p><p>"Like an arrow. No sugar story no nothing. Xeter flies into a rage. Lystraya ends up with a broken finger." Mara shook her head at the memory. Court was full of vipers or froth, not much in between. "She doesn't quit. I think she might still be working for her."</p><p>"You put it that way, court doesn't seem that different from the street. Thugs just have fancier titles."</p><p>Mara laughed, the sound small in the wide corridor dwarfing them. “That’s not completely off the mark.”</p><p>"You seem to know the rules."</p><p>Not that hard. She'd been taking protocol classes all her life, a large part of them centered on who to ingratiate herself to and who to dismiss. "It's been years."</p><p>"Court lady turned bounty hunter is something." El turned slightly to her, his hands on the straps of his pack.</p><p>Mara snorted. "Oh stop it. I told you it's complicated. I came to court as a dancing girl."</p><p>His eyebrows raised. "A dancing girl?"</p><p>"Not that far off from bounty hunting, if you think about it," she said. "Instead of things, I looked for...information." She smiled. "No one thinks a dancing girl is anything other than pretty furniture. I was young, so no one suspected."</p><p>El frowned, looking oddly disturbed. "How young?"</p><p>"Fourteen, but it wasn't like that,” she hastened to add, lifting a hand. “My guardian made sure of it. I wasn't very..." Mara fumbled for an explanation, “Someone was always watching over me.” Back when she'd debuted all she wanted was eyes on her. In retrospect, it’d been embarrassingly shallow of her. "Keeping me safe."</p><p>"So dancing girl, informant, bounty hunter --"</p><p>Mara flashed him an impatient look. "And you pilot, mechanic, guide?"</p><p>He gave a shrug. "Your skills seem... specialized is all I'm getting at. The stuff I do, it's just, I don't know, to get by."</p><p>"The piloting? Or was that just what you told the academy to get out of here?" She doubted it based on how she’d seen him at the controls. </p><p>"Okay," he conceded with a small smile. "Maybe not the piloting."</p><p>"Started when?"</p><p>"About seventeen -- with the T-16.”</p><p>“And the X-34?"</p><p>El nodded, pleased. “You remember. A year or two earlier. Not real piloting though.”</p><p>He had mentioning the distinction before. Seemed arbitrary to her. “No sim?”</p><p>“Hard to find one here -- more expensive than buying a ‘hopper. My uncle bought me a used one anyway. Most kids have 'em so they're dirt cheap.”</p><p>His uncle? This was the first time he’d spoken of a family member. It felt momentous, though from the set of his shoulders, El seemed to be trying to play it off. “Did you like the dancing?”</p><p>Mara forced a soft laugh. It was an obvious way to change the subject. “Not particularly.”</p><p>He gave her a sideways glance.</p><p>“I realized about three quarters of the attention I got was about how...ornamental I was."</p><p>“And the remaining quarter--”</p><p>“Wasn’t enough.” She shook her head, thinking of all the hours she’d spent practicing, the welts on her feet. "I tore my Achilles heel practicing one season." He let out a sympathetic hiss. “I could have been stomping all over the stage. None of that really mattered.” She’d even detected some subtle impatience from her master, as if the cover never went past being that for him either. That had sealed it. “Never the same once I realized that.” </p><p>There were dance companies, of course, even prestigious ones, and those dancers got treated differently. They trained as a group, toured together in the Core worlds. Mara’s instructors had in fact taught at those academies, but Mara undergone private instruction and had performed only at court. The few luminaries she’d been excited to meet at court had looked at her with barely disguised laughter, as if she were a painted tooka. She'd understood what a cover meant then.</p><p>“What about you?” Mara asked, shaking off the memories. “Did you like -- do you like the ah --” Mara caught herself and winced, realizing belatedly wasn’t the kind of question she bounce back to him. She'd forgotten.</p><p>“Sex for pay?” </p><p>“Oh, I didn’t mean--”</p><p>“It’s fine for the credits,” he said matter-of-factly. "Sometimes it was good. Sometimes it wasn’t. It’s like that when it’s work. Not --”</p><p>They both stopped. Mara felt that tingle at the back of her neck. </p><p>“-- about you,” El finished, eyes on the bend in the curve.</p><p>An animal roughly the size of a dewback emerged several yards in front of them. It appeared surprised to find them and flicked its wing-like ears, sniffing loudly.</p><p>Mara glanced at El, even as she kept her focus on the creature. "That a--"</p><p>"Womp rat, yes," he told her quietly, retrieving his rifle with slow, deliberate movements.</p><p>"Six meters long, you said," Mara bent her arm to reach for her own weapon without taking her eyes off the large vermin. Why did everything in Tatooine have to be monstrously big? It was a blasted <i>desert</i> planet. "That's not six meters."</p><p>"I'm more familiar with the Beggar's Canyon variety," he replied in the same hushed tone. "These probably have a different food source."</p><p>The animal sat back on its haunches.</p><p>"Aggressive?"</p><p>It bared its teeth with a hiss.</p><p>"Yep. Probably got friends too," El added, taking aim.</p><p>“Excellent. What would a trip to the Wastes be without experiencing --” She figured he could take the first shot with that rustic rifle of his. She could do clean up. The rifle gave a resounding crack as the womp rat lunged, the loudness of it echoing across the gorge and in Mara’s ears. The animal slammed down on its side, and made no move to get to its feet, a smoking hole just on top of its eyes. </p><p>“-- the local fauna.”</p><p>Her danger sense hadn’t stopped blaring, she realized just as three more rats emerged -- she aimed, but before she could fire her first shot, there was a crack, then another one and a third. The rats were down in short order, slug holes right in between their eyes. </p><p>The back of her neck had stopped tingling. </p><p>She turned back to El, thinking, <i>show-off</i>, with a slight glower, but said, “Only four? I thought the packs were larger.”</p><p>He threw a half-smile in her direction. “Lucky us.” He tapped the slugthrower. “What do you say now?”</p><p>Mara humph’ed. “It’s not every day you encounter oversized rodents like this, El. I’m surprised the noise didn’t bring half the canyon out.” </p><p>El put an arm around her shoulder. It felt like the same overfamiliarity she’d come to associate with this place, but also different. Because it was <i>him</i>.</p><p>“I’ll let you shoot one next time,” he said, laughing.</p><p>Mara rolled her eyes. “If you’re done showing me Tatooine’s favorite pastime, I’d like to get back on track.”</p><p>"Now that's just mean -- and after saving your life too. Again.”</p><p>"Please."</p><p>"You were terrified," he baited with a grin. "Don't hide it."</p><p>Mara widened her eyes. "Positively quaking in my boots."</p><p>El slid his arm away and went ahead. "The packs at Beggar's Canyon are larger,” he called back to her. “About twenty or so."</p><p>"Twenty? Ugh.” She hurried to catch up. “Tatooine."</p><p>--</p><p>Mara had finished putting the supplies away and lifted her head to look over to El, who was disassembling the slugthrower, a collection of cleaning tools including compressor, solvent bottles and brushes on the table, meticulously arranged. Her own rifle she'd put away with the kind of routine wipe down that made blasters more convenient by far. El didn't seem to mind, moving methodically through the process with the ease of someone long familiar with it.</p><p>“You think there’s any hope for the cooling unit?” she asked, going over. They’d given it a cursory look in the morning, but working on it while they had that trip down the canyon to get over with before midday had seemed too daunting.</p><p>He carefully put several parts on the far side of the table, the rest he propped beside him on the floor. “Don't think so, but we can take another crack at it later."</p><p>Mara went for her datapad and sat beside him, scanning through the data the encrypt program had spat out, an odd feeling coalescing. Ever since she’d finished, she’d been trying to work her way through the garrison files without much success. Without the urgency of being chased, maybe she could actually make some headway. It was good information to have, even if she was technically done with everything. She inched back to lean against the wall bringing her knees up. </p><p>Toggling over, she settled on the oldest file, which had the description of the rebel cell. The cover had been moisture farmers under an old name, Lars. A human male as the family head, human female as his wife, and their teenage son, who was speculated to be the point of contact. He’d been missing once the stormtroopers tracked the droids to the farm, even after a thorough search in the whole area and Mos Eisley.</p><p>"You can’t have a signal.”</p><p>She lifted her head. El was wiping down what she assumed was the slugthrower's magazine box. "I wish. No, not even at the Oasis.” </p><p>Mara dove back into her files, the occasional click of the slugthrower parts as he put them down and the hiss of the compressor soothing.</p><p>What she’d seen of the Imperials in this forsaken world hadn’t impressed her. That dissident got away because of their routine incompetence. Now, one year later, that trail was cold. </p><p>Or was it? Stormtroopers were infamous for being terrible at information extraction, their approach too heavy handed on a good day. As long as she was here, she could make a case for approaching the witnesses, add to the body of information. She could put her unique set of talents to good use, and if something turned up, her master would be pleased. Very pleased. </p><p>If her new intel led to the rebel’s capture, it might buy her enough good will to bring up LaRone and his men's desertion charge. She could go over ISB's head altogether, get their names cleared.</p><p>To do that meant staying just a little longer on Tatooine.  </p><p>The light was low when she pulled her head up from her datapad. El wasn't anywhere she could see, which was odd. Last she'd heard him finish reassembling the slugthrower and taken it to the foyer. She could see it from where she sat, propped against the stone wall. He wouldn't be outside unless he were tinkering with the vaporator again, which seemed unlikely. Cellar, then though she wasn't sure why he'd be down there.</p><p>"El?" she called, going to the kitchen. Just as she'd thought the trapdoor leading down to the cellar was open.</p><p>"Yeah?" She heard a flurry of movement as she went down the steps. "What are you doing down here?"  </p><p>"Nothing much," came his reply, "Looking for more tools for the cooling unit." He was rummaging through the desk when he came into view. </p><p>"Don't you have the set you used for the vaporator?"</p><p>"Thought maybe there’s something more specific for the cooling unit." El shut one of the drawers. Something about him seemed off, oddly agitated.</p><p>Mara noticed his open pack by the desk. "You brought your pack down?" A wary expression crossed his face. "You’re thinking of setting up your bedroll here? I told you last night that it’s fine."</p><p>El appeared to relax somewhat, but still held some of that odd tension in his shoulders. She could see it in the rigidity of his posture, but it blared from the Force too. "You said that, yes, but..."</p><p>She shouldn't insist if he felt that badly about it. What was it to her anyway? "If you feel you'd sleep better here-- it’s up to you, of course." </p><p>“Not necessarily, I--” Mara didn’t know what to make of his expression. He looked...some mix of nervous and...apprehensive, felt that way too.</p><p>She frowned. Why? “Everything ok?”</p><p>El seemed to want to say something, but thought better of it and nodded. “Fine. I guess...that cooling unit is beyond help.”</p><p>That wasn’t it, Mara knew. “Did you find something weird here?”</p><p>“No.” He froze suddenly. “Wait, what do you mean by weird?”</p><p>Mara took a look around. “I don’t know. Human remains?”</p><p>There was a split second and El snorted out a laugh. “Bones?”</p><p>"<i>You</i> were the one who called whoever had been here an eccentric--”</p><p>His expression had transformed into amused incredulity. “But keeping bones? Human bones? In a cellar? That’s not what <i>eccentric</i> means here, Arica,” he needled, suddenly back to his usual self.</p><p>“That’s not what I meant,” she protested. Put that way, all right, it seemed a little insane. “I meant that maybe he died here or something.”</p><p>"No." The humor faded from El’s face. “I don’t think he did.”</p><p>“Oh?” She tilted her head, remembering the journal. He’d brought it up yesterday, hadn’t he? “Did you get that journal open?”</p><p>El hesitated for a beat then some. “Yeah," he said, almost reluctantly. "It was just, uh, stories... about Jedi.”</p><p>Mara scrunched her face. “Jedi? Oh,” she clucked her tongue, “old propaganda.” She thought back to all those rumors of dissidents among the populace, that missing rebel over at the salt flats. "Explains the lock. You could get in serious trouble owning something like that."</p><p>He looked even more unsettled. "Here?"</p><p>"Not a whole lot of stormtroopers here," she said, smiling a little. "Did he write it, you think? Could have been scavenged, too. I'd leave it when we go, just to be safe.” </p><p>She looked at his pack again and her smile faded. It really was none of her business if he chose to sleep here tonight. Had he just been afraid to ask for space? Was that what he was covering up -- hinting that she'd been tiresome with all her prattling? When she looked up, El was staring at her and she felt eerily transparent. </p><p>A burn rose up to her face as her stomach knotted up.</p><p>"I don't think we’ll need the cooling unit." Mara straightened her back and headed towards the stairs. "The temperature inside isn't terrible.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I have to say," El admitted as he discarded the ration bar wrapper, "I wish I'd known about the hut so we could have gotten something closer to real food." </p><p>Outside the window Tatoo I was inching down to the horizon. She’d gone back to the main floor and had started to go over her maps of the Great Chott salt flat. El had stayed down at the cellar for a while longer until he came up for a ration bar, sitting, as usual, beside her on the alcove. That feeling from last night was back in full force. Mara itched to leave, but of course, there was nowhere to go. </p><p>They’d leave tomorrow, she'd decided. It’d already been three days. El was looking at her expectantly and she said, "It'd have to be cooked." </p><p>"Dewback eggs and sotan aren't difficult to fry up."</p><p>She thought back, sotan was some kind of spicy noodle. At this point it did sound slightly more appetizing than their dinner, but only marginally. The cheese and flatbread they'd brought back from the Oasis had been the last meal she'd had. "A ration bar is simpler.” It felt like that’s what she should say.</p><p>His grin was a tease. Calculated or unconscious? She didn’t really know. "Don't tell me you can dismantle explosives but breakfast intimidates you?"</p><p>"Don't have much use for cooking skills," she added flatly, crushing her ration bar wrapper in her hands. She would rather El not make conversation if he didn’t feel like it. </p><p>Something flickered in his expression and yet he continued, "I haven't had a kitchen in ages. Not that I can cook. I can't. Well, maybe basic things. I watched my aunt. Picked up a few things," his expression closed off a bit, "Probably forgot them."</p><p>An aunt now. El had mentioned an uncle earlier. But, she reminded herself, this wasn’t any of her concern. "You'd be surprised how much you retain even when it's something you hardly think about." She kept her eyes on the edge of the stone table. </p><p>He let out a soft chuckle. "If you're angling for a cook, I don't think my abilities go too far."</p><p>"I don't think about what I eat while on a job," Mara muttered. That had been rude, maybe. She looked up. "I guess we should have gotten something for you. Ration bars don't make great meals."</p><p>"Oh! No," he said quickly. "No, I didn't mean it like that. It was just an observation. It's not important at all. I'm not -- I'm not used to much. It's not like what we had back at Mos Espa was that much better." </p><p>"It's okay. We're leaving tomorrow. We'll have real food at Bestine." El searched her face. Mara dropped her eyes again, not sure what he was looking for. 

</p><p>"It's nice there," he started after the silence lengthened. "Nicer than Mos Espa and Mos Eisley. Although I haven't been there in a long time. Maybe ten years or so. We'd go to Mos Eisley more often. My aunt and uncle didn't like it, but Mos Eisley's got the biggest market in the south. It always had a terrible reputation though. I wasn't allowed to go until I was eight. Had to stay with my aunt while my uncle went. A few times they left me with other family -- when my aunt had some specific errand she needed to run."</p><p>Mara brought a hand up to rub at her face. She wanted not to be curious, but the way he brought it up seemed like...a prompt. 

</p><p>"I don't remember what we ate at Bestine. It probably wasn't anything fancy. We only spent the day there and they weren't the type, but I'm sure there's options."</p><p>Did he think he had to tell her about his family? Mara folded her hands on her lap. Why? Because she'd told him? </p><p> "They never did like cities much anyway, always on a hurry to leave."</p><p>But she <i>wanted</i> to know.</p><p> "Drove me crazy --"</p><p>“They raised you," Mara blurted out.</p><p>El nodded. "My aunt and uncle adopted me when I was a baby.”</p><p>An odd feeling welled up in her chest, she didn’t raise her eyes from the table. It didn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. She'd suspected as much, hadn't she? “And your parents?"</p><p>His voice sounded a little strained. “They didn't tell me much. Nothing about my mother. And my father...supposedly he’d been a navigator on a spice freighter. I don’t think they were from here. Maybe out there, I don’t know, I could find something about them.”</p><p>She forced herself to meet his eyes. “Why?”</p><p>“You don’t want to find your parents?”</p><p>Mara shook her head. </p><p>“You don’t want to know where you came from?” He looked at her uncomprehendingly. “Why you’re...different.”</p><p>“They didn’t make me different.” Mara frowned. That had been her master. And different -- special -- wasn’t about what you were born with. It was what you cultivated, grinding yourself down day after day. She knew exactly where she came from. What mattered, anyway.</p><p>El didn’t say anything for a few beats and she stood and went outside, sat where she’d sat the night before watching the twilight. It was earlier than that tonight, but not by much, the light growing vermillion as the suns slowly sank into the horizon.</p><p>She’d known what the right thing to do was. The right thing to do would have been not to ask, otherwise it was pretending  -- pretending they were really friendly, not that she was a client paying for his time. She heard the skid of gravel behind her and tensed. </p><p>A few beats passed in silence. El shifting a little as if he were nervous. “Something wrong?” he said, coming to sit next to her.</p><p>Mara shook her head. “No, nothing.”</p><p>Silence fell, grim. Too grim, so she said, “This was a great hideout.”</p><p>“Yeah, we got lucky.” </p><p>The desert was louder than she expected, Mara thought to distract herself. Not as loud as a forest but not quiet. It was quiet now, but it wouldn't once it was dark. </p><p>“So Bestine, then Mos Espa.”</p><p>"Bestine, yes. I've been thinking about it and I have a couple of loose ends remaining. I think I’ll stick around for a bit before going to Mos Espa. You can go ahead.”</p><p>“Here? Stick around Tatooine?”</p><p>“Yeah, I'd like to look into some,” she caught herself before saying <i>rebel</i>, “hostile last seen around the Great Chott salt flat.” If she got more information that would be enough, considering the gravity of the situation.</p><p>“Hostile?”</p><p>“Some relation to the hit we took.”</p><p>“Great Chott,” El echoed. “That’s near Anchorhead. South. Someone dangerous?”</p><p>“No, that trail is over a year old, I don't think I'll find anything other than information. If that, but as long as I’m here...”</p><p>"I could help you."</p><p>Mara laughed humorlessly and looked down. Of course he could. For a price.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>She couldn't blame him, really. Reality looked different when necessity loomed before you. </p><p>"I appreciate the offer, but I can handle myself from here. It’s just information and the trail has probably gone cold, like I said.” She met El's eyes. “I’ll get you the full amount at Bestine tomorrow and you can keep half of the supplies. I don't need them. You'll get extra when you sell them.”</p><p>Wariness crossed over his face and she looked away. “You’ve been quiet. Since the cellar.”</p><p>"I just-- I just have things to do. It’s good. You reminded me. That’s all.”</p><p>“I could go with you. It’s not a big deal.”</p><p>“I think you’ve waited long enough to leave, don’t you? All your life you said." </p><p>Mara stood, ready to go back into the hut to try to wind down a bit when he called hesitantly, “Arica?”</p><p>“Mm?”</p><p>"Waiting a little longer doesn't make much difference." He stopped. "I know once you go, once I go, we'll probably never see each other again and… I like being with you." </p><p>Her stomach clenched unpleasantly. “You don’t have to say that.” </p><p>"You think I'm lying?”</p><p>Maybe she should know, but she didn’t want to reach out with the Force for this. Mara shrugged. He'd been lying before at the cellar.</p><p>“I’m not lying. I'm really not, and you -- and I,” El paused long enough to get to his feet, “I thought you liked spending time with me, too.”</p><p>Mara nodded. “Yes, I’ve -- I’ve liked working with you.” She said, looking straight ahead. “Like I said you’re very capable, and...personable. You’ll do well out there, and...I’m glad that the compensation you get will -- will help you --” </p><p>“Sometimes I don’t think it’s you talking," he cut her off, a gentle hand by her shoulder. "You say things someone else would say. Maybe things you <i>think</i> you should be saying.”</p><p>Mara scowled, snapping her head towards him. “No, I mean it. You can do better than here. You <i>should</i>--”</p><p>“And what you mean to say is that you like me.”</p><p>She bit off an exasperated, “Yes! Which is why--”</p><p>El kissed her. It was a little awkward; he’d miscalculated and his lips ended at the corner of her mouth, half at her cheek. Her chest wrung all the same in an unrecognizable way. She knew about a dozen ways to extract herself.</p><p>Mara tried none of them.</p><p>What she wanted  was to wrap her arms around him, press herself against him. What she actually did was clench her hand, that wringing in her chest growing intolerable, making it hard to breathe until she pulled away.</p><p>"Which is convenient," he continued without missing a beat, lowering his hand. "Because I like you too, but...Are you attracted to me?”</p><p>She started at the suddenness of the question. “What?”</p><p>“You’re hard to read. I think so sometimes and others, I’m not sure…" Mara felt the breath whoosh out of her, her face growing hot. He grew even more serious. "Or maybe there's…If you've gone through something -- you don't have to tell me --"</p><p>"No." She thought back to the scars on him. Unbelievable <i>he'd</i> ask <i>her</i>. "No. Nothing happened to me."</p><p>"Good. That's good." El looked visibly relieved. “I get the impression that you didn't particularly...enjoy last time, but sometimes I think you might want to try again. You did change your mind then and --"</p><p>Mara raised a hand to her face and rubbed at her forehead, wanting to magically transport herself under her bedroll. Was he really bringing this up?</p><p> “I…,” she dragged the word out. How to explain? “It’s the credits. I -- I don’t want... to pay for sex." She shut her eyes and quickly corrected, "No! That’s not what I mean. I mean that it was fine to pay for it once, it was work -- for you -- but I don’t want it to be an -- an obligation. As in you don’t want to, but I’m paying so you have to. I -- I’ve never been in that situation before, just that once.” She made a face at her halting voice. “And I…Last time was fine. I...enjoyed it fine, but when I work with people I don’t sleep with them. I’d never done that before. It’s not...right.”</p><p>He squinted. “That a work rule?”</p><p>“No, no, just common sense.” Mara pushed a loose strand of her hair back. “Decorum.”</p><p>He chuckled. She was more than ready to go back inside, crawl into her bedroll and forget this whole embarrassing conversation, but he came back with, “And what I asked? If you were at--”</p><p>Irritated now, she snapped, "I made a mistake, El. I'm not going to do it again."</p><p>"Because you think I’d be obligated by the deal?" His voice shaded to amusement. “Or it’s, uh, indecorous?”</p><p>Mara wasn’t amused. “Stop making fun of me.” </p><p>“I’m not.”</p><p>She let her silence speak for her.</p><p>“Not, you - you,” he clarified. “Just that decorum is a ridiculous reason. For anything.”</p><p>“Decorum is the foundation of civilization, and besides--”</p><p>El burst out laughing.  </p><p>She wasn’t going to sit and be mocked any longer.  He might not mean anything by it, being used to all manner of vulgarity, but it was all mortifying from where she stood. </p><p>“Anyway,” Mara continued, now aggravated enough to take the edge out of her embarrassment, “You didn’t seem like you enjoyed yourself that much either.”</p><p>“You didn’t let me do much.” </p><p>Mara winced. She should have kept her mouth shut. </p><p>“I get it,” he said lightly. “You’re particular. And you’re entitled to--”</p><p>“No!” she cut him off before it could get worse. “Because I’m a client? <i> No. </i> And even if it wasn't a mistake, which it was, going back on terms is unprincipled. It’s all,” she searched for an adequate expression for it, felt a thrum of vicious satisfaction when she found it, “poor judgement.” That's what it would be called.</p><p>El didn’t say anything for a few beats and she continued, “Do you <i>want</i> to sleep with people for pay, because now you don't--"
</p><p>“I didn’t set out to sleep with people for pay, no,” he interrupted, somewhat defensively. “I told you I did tech work for a while, and that was fine until I got in trouble with the guilds. A bunch of the spacers that hired me for tech work made it clear they’d pay double for <i>extra</i>.” He scoffed. “You go through the ringer a couple of times and extra doesn't sound that bad. At least I don’t have thugs after me robbing me blind for admission fees or whatever they’re calling it these days.”</p><p>A sick feeling settled in her stomach. </p><p>“That's it," she said softly. "Exactly it. I -- I don’t want to be like...like the spacers. I’m not that person...I made a mistake and you don't -- you don't need to do this.”</p><p>"This?"</p><p>She looked down.</p><p>He sighed. "Let's try again. I like you very much. I find you very pretty. I want to keep spending time with you and would want to try again -- not for credits or a deal or any of that."</p><p>"El." She shook her head. "You don't--"</p><p>"I just said not for credits," he pointed out. When she didn't continue he added, "I think you’re the strangest person I’ve ever met. A bounty hunter, but not for profit. Court lady, but...not. You've been everywhere, but you're also kind of," he tilted his head, "... unaware.”</p><p>“Hey.” She snapped her head up reflexively.</p><p>He was smiling. “I understand the credits issue, but it’s not…” he stopped as if thinking, “I don't need any more than what we had a deal for. I don't and that has nothing to do with why I'm telling you this." His smile acquired a tinge of disappointment. "But if sex makes you that uncomfortable, I won't mention it again. I would still like to help you after Bestine, if that's all right.” </p><p>That should be a relief, but Mara stayed where she was. She felt his hand by her cheek and closed her eyes. </p><p>"It's not about what I need, Arica.” Her heartbeat was so loud, she wouldn’t be surprised if he’d heard it. "I want things, too, you know." El stayed quiet for a moment before murmuring, “You really are unlike anyone I've ever met."</p><p> He'd said it as if it were something wonderful. Mara swallowed. "What do you want?” she whispered. </p><p>"What I told you." His fingertips traced the curve of her cheek. "As long as we're both here, I could go with you...wherever -- I'd want that, because of <i>you</i>, nothing else and...” </p><p>She licked her lips, held in suspension, alive to the path of his fingers on her cheek, the heat pouring off him in the waning day, wanting desperately to touch him, but intuiting that wasn't all.</p><p>"And?" </p><p>Because she liked the sound of his voice, the brightness of his smile, the changing light in his eyes. It was unlike anything. He was.</p><p>"Didn't I already tell you that too?" El teased, laughing ruefully. An aching feeling settled behind the hollow of her throat at the sound.</p><p>Mara opened her eyes and his smile was clear to her even in the lengthening shadows, open and she thought, genuine. She hadn't been wrong about him wanting her, but being right paled against the fact of how he felt about her. Of hearing it said out loud.</p><p>Her <i>Tell me again</i> was lost  when he covered her mouth with his.</p><p>The feeling reminded Mara of a year ago, her body warm and relaxed after going through a half bottle of ambergris, surreptitiously procured for her birthday, yet another solitary experiment. But she wasn't alone now, even if El's kiss brought back an echo of that heat, only brighter this time, more dizzying. Mara brought her arms around his neck, swept up in the feeling, a discovery. Her chest filled up with something unnamable, close to how she felt listening to a lingering adagio, or staring at something heartbreakingly beautiful, close to how it felt being told she'd excelled, that she'd surpassed all expectations. Somehow, this single moment felt better than <i>all</i> of that.</p><p>"You're not sleeping in the cellar," she blurted out after, arms still around his neck.</p><p>El huffed a laugh, his breath warm against her lips as he snaked his arms around her waist, pulling her close.</p><p>"Oh," he said as if it were an afterthought, "I never intended to," and kissed her again.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Apologies for the delay. The story IS finished, but I'm still editing and some chapters take longer than others depending on what current RL whirlwind I'm up against. Thank you for your patience.</p><p>A shout out to strangeallure for her generous suggestions and corrections.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If El kept this up, she was going to come.</p><p>He hadn't even been doing that much, only kissed her against the outside wall of the hut until her lips felt tingly and swollen, until the light on the horizon had faded. El’s hands had stroked up and down her back at first, then skimmed her waist as his lips trailed her cheek, her neck. There, Mara’s breath had hitched, fingers digging into his shoulders until she deliberately had to ease her hold. <em>Last time, you didn't let me do much,</em> he'd said. This time, it'd be different, she'd decided. She'd be different.</p><p>El had stopped from where he was mouthing at her neck, hands traveling up her back again. "Okay?" </p><p>"Yes," Mara had answered quickly. Her next "Yes” had been against his lips as she’d pulled him down for another kiss. <em>Too forward?</em> His hand had slipped to her nape, angling her for a deeper kiss, and she lost the thought, unease dissolving at the feel of his tongue against hers. That had been a discovery too, the transporting way his kisses went from achingly soft to sharp and bruising and back again, the way he’d coaxed her to fall into a rhythm with the slide of his tongue, the press of his lips. When he’d gently pulled away, it’d been to brush his lips against her cheek, the corner of her jaw. Mara had sighed, both lulled and incited; it’d felt right, not too much, to tangle her hands in his hair, squirming a little to press up even closer to him. </p><p>El had moaned softly against her lips, arms tightening around her waist, and that had been… She hadn’t been able to help the shiver, a growing restlessness that came with the throb of blood in her ears, the smoldering thought that she had provoked this, could provoke this, provoke <i>him</i>, maybe to take her right here, out in the open. That she'd want to. Her whole body had buzzed at the realization that she could be reduced to <i>this</i>, and when he’d nipped at the hollow just below her earlobe, she jerked, a small sound slipping out of her mouth. </p><p>El had murmured something low she couldn't catch. The biting kiss at her neck had made her arch. Stars, she’d wanted something, anything, just more. His hands had lowered to cup her ass, grip brusque, his breathing short and shallow near her throat like it <i>could</i> happen that way, quick and tawdry, the jut of his cock through the thin fabric of his clothes further proof.</p><p>Mara had shifted against him with a breathy whine, pressing herself against him, the rush in her veins spreading heat through her belly, maddening and indecent, just like the answering pull of his hands on her ass, an encouragement. Stars, she was so wet. Could he feel it? </p><p>"Let me touch you," she’d half-heard El say. She had inched even closer by way of answering. It couldn’t be hard to tell, no, not for him. One of his hands had slipped under the hem of her tunic, the warmth of his palm so welcome she jolted. He’d stopped again.</p><p>“No, no, no, don't stop.” Mara had scrabbled her hands over his shoulders and had pulled him down for a kiss she hoped communicated a sound yes, pressing her teeth against his full lower lip. It'd been delicious when he'd done it, and -- Good, his hand had been back against her skin, sliding down the edge of her pants, while he’d nuzzled her neck, her nerves prickling even more. Her heart had pounded its own drumbeat of yesses against her ribs, her breath threading as El sank his hand into her underclothes, trailing his fingers into the seam of her.</p><p>Mara had pushed into his hand, incited that he was so close, but not -- She’d let out a whine that got even more high pitched at the scrape of his teeth, sharp at her shoulder. El's fingers had slid up, across her clit, her hips giving chase. When he’d brought the heel of his hand against her, she had drawn a lungful of air, past aching, her thoughts scattering. Breakover voltage. Every push of his hand had drawn out a pulse of her hips. Over and over and over.</p><p>If he kept doing that, she <i>was</i> going to come, she thought again, panting and moaning against the pourstone wall, overcome by his touch alone.</p><p>Mara hadn't seen anything like this in red holos. Being fully clothed somehow made it even more obscene, like a dirty secret, his hand between her legs, heel of it rubbing confidently across her clit while he sucked kisses at the crook of her neck.</p><p>El whispered, "You have any idea how good you feel? I want to taste you, feel you with my tongue. You'll let me lick you later, right?" and just like that, the starswept sky came down on her.</p><p>She forgot where she was, who she was, holding onto him as she trembled, as El kissed her temple, her cheek, her mouth, his arm keeping her up against the pourstone. Her head felt hazy. Vaguely she registered his cock pressing against her thigh. </p><p>Mara waded out of her muzziness to ask, "What do you want?" </p><p>El chuckled. "Thought I just told you."</p><p>"El, come on--" He cut off her protesting with another kiss and she shifted, pressing herself against him. Emboldened by his gasp, she slid her hand down, palming him through the clothing. </p><p>"I mean...you said when it's work, it's not about you." Mara kissed along the turn of his jaw. "This isn't...work, right?"</p><p>"No, of course not.” El gave her a puzzled look as he met her eyes. His expression changed to something warmer, too warm, and she dropped her gaze.</p><p>“You think too much." He tilted her head for a full kiss. "We need,” he murmured against her neck, dropping a kiss there, “to do something.” Another kiss on her shoulder. “About that.”</p><p>Mara chuckled, palms drifting down his arms, wishing she’d feel his skin instead of the tunic beneath her touch. Curiosity prompted her to lower her hands to his hips, slide one over his cock through the clothing. She liked how his breathing changed, even as he sought her for more kisses.</p><p>"I wanted to touch you. A lot," Mara whispered, drawing away slightly. It felt like a confession owed for the easy lightness that had come over her, how he'd made her feel, “the first time we did this." </p><p>El stared at her, assessing for all his eyes were half-lidded, lips red from all the kissing. The light that streamed through the carved windows played along his cheekbones. </p><p>"Why didn't you?" he asked.</p><p>"I don't know.” Mara swallowed, the memory of his parted lips as he'd come suddenly stark in her mind. The fabric was too much obstruction, but she found herself hesitating. “Didn't know if it was...what was done."</p><p>"What was done?" An undertone of amusement curled beneath the words, a twitch of a smile visible at the corner of his lips.</p><p>"Acceptable. Expected," Mara explained. "I told you, it's not something I do." She almost winced. This wasn't a topic to bring up here, not here with him hard in her hand, while she was touching him like this. "It's not--"</p><p>"Right.” He lifted a hand to trail his index finger down her cheek to her neck, leaving her skin tingling from the ghosted touch. “Indecorous."</p><p>She should cut off this conversation. It would serve him right for teasing her now of all times, but she liked him like this, straining against her hand, breathing uneven, even if he kept the tendency to run his mouth. Then again, she didn’t outright dislike that either.</p><p>"Not what I meant." Mara really didn’t want to think of all of her clumsiness. But El had done this so many times, obviously, and she…hadn't and maybe...She stopped. “Just...how do you like to be touched?”</p><p>He exhaled, a warm puff of breath by her shoulder, pressed a soft kiss just below her ear. </p><p>“Tell me, El," she whispered, distracted enough to close her eyes. "This time, I want to do what you like."</p><p>One more quick kiss, and he shifted her gently away. Mara blinked, had she been too demanding again? But he'd only been reaching for her hand-- and into another greedy kiss while he was at it -- as if he hadn't been kissing her all this time.</p><p>"We should go in," he said and started towards the door, his hand tugging at her wrist, endearingly eager. She didn't get the chance to insist on an answer because as soon as they'd made it a step past the door, he trapped her against the foyer’s wall, swooping down for another kiss, nothing quick about it. Thorough and slow, wet, and maybe just a bit dirty for it.</p><p>Something was digging into her back, but the firm press of El's body against her, the way his hands slid up and down her sides, the way he sucked on her tongue was more consuming by far. She ran her hands through his hair, dared to nip at his lower lip, and he made a small noise signalling he liked that, the thrill of this discovery much more visceral than all her earlier curiosity.
</p><p>El pulled away, fingers gliding over her skin as he rucked her tunic up and dragged his mouth down to her nipple, flicking it with his tongue before giving it a hard suck that ripped a high moan from the back of her throat. He looked up, a smile in his eyes, and she looked away sheepishly.</p><p>“What was it?” He ducked his head back down, lips still at her breast. “Decorum,” he blew slightly, the shock of cool air making her moan, “is what?” His lips closed over the nipple, her shoulders snapping back at the heat, that protrusion jamming into the side of her spine. “Civil?”</p><p>Mara couldn’t help a snort which transformed into a soft cry when he nipped at the side of her breast, then found her nipple again, his mouth hot and insistent, making her ache enough to arch and shamelessly push further into it.</p><p>“Can’t believe you,” she scolded between short gulps of breath, her head thrown back against the wall, angling herself away from whatever blasted thing kept digging into the side of her back, wanting to focus only and entirely on his mouth on her skin. “Not <i>now</i>.”</p><p>El chuckled, lowered his mouth more, bit hard at her hip bone. The embarrassing squeal she let out would have had her covering her face, if she hadn’t been busy helping El get her pants down. He came back up to kiss her, and she gave into the intensity of it until he dropped down to his knees, nosing along the waistband of her underwear, his fingers curling along the hem to slide them down.</p><p>"We can...we can do what you want," she gasped, flattening her palms against either side of the wall beside her.</p><p>Mara felt him chuckle as his lips followed her underwear's path down her thigh.</p><p>"El." She recoiled at the pitch of her voice, too high and peevish, self-consciousness rearing up as he nudged her leg to the side. She brought a light hand to his head, and he looked up as she trailed her fingers down the side of his face. </p><p>"El," Mara repeated softly, and something else flickered in his eyes, a hint of  sadness, or maybe longing, and the impulse to do something in response to it weighed her voice differently, made it sound strange to her ears. "El, why don't I--"</p><p>Just as quickly it vanished, his usual blithe demeanor back in place.</p><p>"Let me do what I want? Yes," he finished, smirking up at her, "I want to make you come." He lowered his head between her legs, the first lick loosening a moan from her throat, her upper back pressing against the wall, her hand scarcely avoiding clenching at his head, the stroke of his tongue wiping out even the discomfort at her back.</p><p>El pulled slightly off to press his lips against her, then licked her again, long but just off from where he'd rubbed his thumb earlier, did it again just as unhurriedly, followed it up with shorter licks, a merciless tease of a pattern that had her gasping. Mara barely realized when he’d pushed one of her legs over his shoulder, opening her further. She moaned at his tongue pushing in, licking thoroughly, feeling her out. Her hips arched tighter against his mouth, her hands wringing in his hair when he shifted up to give her hard swipes of his tongue. She must be dripping down his face, she thought. She could hear him sucking on her, the sound absolutely filthy.</p><p>Mara’s muscles locked in high tension, her thighs beginning to shake. The more the pressure built, the weaker her legs felt. Any more of this, came the realization, and she’d topple over. She pushed El off, his face confused and wet with her. Mara groped for an explanation to give him that her addled brain couldn’t supply. The digging at her back was gone though, so she let herself slide down and yanked him to her for a kiss. </p><p>His arms came around her waist as his lips sealed onto hers with the same enthusiasm as before, a sticky, obscene note in the way he tasted. Her hips jolted, breath hitching at the thought -- and something <i>punched</i> the side of her shoulder, hard, shoving her forward. If it hadn’t been for El's counterbalancing, they'd have ended up sprawled on the floor. Whatever it was clattered loudly beside them.</p><p>“For fuck’s sake.” Mara cast a glare at the offending object. The slugthrower lay on its side beside her.</p><p>El burst out laughing, but shifted his hips to slide a leg between hers. "I can make it up to you." </p><p>"Yeah?" She started to paw his tunic off his shoulder and sucked a kiss there. His skin tasted incredible, salty and sweat-slick.</p><p>"My fault,"  he half-moaned as she bit lightly.</p><p>Regrettably, she had to break off so he could pull her tunic over her head, but the fact he shrugged off his own next made up for it. She could trace his shoulder blades now, feel the shift of muscle as he moved, his lips drifting towards the hollow of her throat. Sweat prickled on her skin wherever they touched, her nerves lighting up at the feel of his lips on her. She ran her hands over his naked back, skimmed her fingers up his spine. Touching him felt exactly as good as she'd thought. Better.</p><p>Her breath got shaky in anticipation at the gliding touch down her thigh. She moved her hips restlessly against his hand, breath catching at his fingers sliding inside.</p><p>"You feel amazing." She couldn't decide if it was the breathlessness of his words, the heat of his mouth against her neck or the push of his fingers into her that made her shiver. "You taste good too. All of you."</p><p>He scooted up, kissed her like that was true, like he'd been starving for her, but that was fitting; she'd swallow him alive if she could. Mara shut her eyes tight, tangled her hands deeper into his hair, pads of her fingers against his scalp. His touch didn't linger like last time, his fingers pushed in as she squeezed tight, bore down with a harsh whine.</p><p>"Are you going to come again?" he asked, mouth by her ear again, voice both dark and eager. “I wanted to lick you until you came, and I want to do it now, but I don't want to stop."</p><p>Mara pulled at his pants, urgency stealing her words. As good as it'd been to have him touch her, she wanted all that between them off, to draw him into her, besides, make pleasure skate on him like lightning.</p><p>El withdrew his fingers with a shuddering breath, shoved his pants and underwear down. When he pushed inside, expression tight enough to give his face a severe cast she'd never seen, and slick on slick pleasure short-circuited everything. Mara moaned, loud and mindless, wrapped her legs around his, her heels at his calves, pushed her hips up chasing more of it through the downstroke, her hands on his back for purchase. </p><p>El sought her lips still, for something more like breathing together than a kiss, a soft moan between them, his arm braced beside her head as his eyes fixed on her. Every thrust made her dig her heels, so much tension coiling in her belly it was a special kind of agony, the best thing she'd felt bar none. She was nearly sobbing from it, when he gasped something, a hand fumbling against her. </p><p>All that tension crested, broke, her body bending forward as her muscles seized up. He might have moaned, hips driving into her hard. Mara brought her hands up to his nape, hearing when he made a choked sound, cracked and beautiful, his body going rigid and it would have been perfect, save he drew away, the movement jarring. Mara followed reflexively, wrapping her arms around his back, feeling his chest heave against her, a warm rush somewhere along her thigh.  </p><p>El slumped into her and she tightened her arms around him, pressing the side of her face against his neck. His hand slid up her arm and back down for a moment, that lulling feeling back. El kissed the side of her head and shifted, easing some of his weight from her. Mara smiled at the searching look in his eyes, tilted her head for another kiss, soft enough she hummed a bit into it. When she pulled away she felt her smile widen at him flushed, his hair a disheveled mess.</p><p>"Believe it or not, I meant for us to make it to my bedroll." El moved away to clear off his clothes and his boots. </p><p>“Did you now?” she purred, raising up on her forearms.</p><p> He nudged at the side of her boot with his elbow, looking at her over his shoulder, and wrinkled his nose. "Off."</p><p> Mara rolled her eyes at him, toeing them off. "You get me all dirty and now you're complaining about shoes inside." </p><p>"Tracking sand in and we sonic'ed--" His eyes tracked up to the fluid dripping down her thigh and he tensed visibly. "I'll get you a towel--"</p><p>"Oh, it's fine," she replied quickly, but he was already standing. Mara looked on thinking that <i>had</i> been unexpected, and it'd been unexpected too when he'd pulled away from her, come to think of it. "Did you mean that?" she blurted out, gesturing to her thigh when he’d returned, towel in hand.</p><p>El flashed her a confused look as he handed her the towel. "Mean what?"</p><p>Mara grabbed it, feeling heat rush to her face as she cleaned herself. "Is it ...common to...finish like this? Here?"</p><p>"Oh," he said matter-of-factly, "I wasn't sure what you'd be okay with. I thought last time you would rather I not come inside you. I didn't mean to get it on you like that just...didn't think it through.”</p><p>Mara’s hands tightened on the towel, half-interested and half-regretting she'd asked. It was all so crude."I didn't. I wasn't thinking about that." She made a face. "I didn't care whether you did or didn't then. I don't mean that in a bad way. Just that if you had it wouldn't have been a problem. It's not a problem now, either."</p><p>She dared to glance up. He was staring at her like he was trying to decode an encrypt by hand. </p><p>"We can do whatever you feel comfortable with. That's what I mean. I don't know what... expectations there are here."</p><p>El smiled. "That really worries you, huh. Doing what's expected."</p><p>She shrugged.</p><p>He lifted a hand to her shoulder stroking gently. "I guess. But I don't think it's right as much as what you’d rather." He seemed reluctant to continue, shifting his hand away. "It's not odd to want less of a mess."</p><p>It was her turn to look puzzled. "Less...messy?"</p><p>"It's not inside you," he explained as if it were obvious. "And it's a little less risky."</p><p>Mara chuckled at how...weird it all was. "What risk? I have a suppressor, mine and yours bring fer-- wait-- " His eyes flickered away. "<i>Oh.</i>"</p><p>"The clinics dispense permissions.” El lifted his left hand and Mara noticed the ink wasn't as dark as she remembered. How long had it been? Close to two weeks? “You're not allowed riika without a check up, but they don't sell suppressants."</p><p>Sell suppressants? <i>Suppressors</i> in the Core were as widespread as common immunizations, standardized hygiene for any biologically mature human. No one paid for them. Mara frowned. Disease in the human genome was generally controlled through basic hygienic immunizations dictates, but there were always exceptions, genetic issues being the largest concern. Sterilization of certain risky populations could control that altogether depending on where in the galaxy you were, but those policies were enacted haphazardly, even more haphazardly enforced. She seriously doubted Tatooine would have the infrastructure.  </p><p>“But without suppressors...” Was that a weird more here? It was basic knowledge that without a suppressor there simply was no guarantee, and if he’d done this with some woman who hadn't undergone proper hygiene --</p><p>He was silent for a beat as if reading her thoughts added, “Most of those who have hired me have been men.”</p><p>Ah. That would be safer, if distasteful. Most wasn't <i>all</i> though, and there had always been talk of near humans going to great lengths to procure genetic material, it wasn't inconceivable especially in the Outer Rim where population safeguards were <i>so</i> lax --</p><p>No. Mara didn't want to know. It didn’t change anything and all of it made sordid sense. The Mirialan popped into her head. There had been rumors at court of men with strange proclivities, a few women too. Her eyes were drawn to the long scar running down his left side, her mind supplied the others behind his right shoulder.</p><p>"Anyway," El continued  as if he didn't want to linger on the subject, gaze staunchly off center. "it's not… polite for a one-time thing here. Usually. And definitely not if you're doing it for pay."</p><p>"I'm on suppressor and…" Mara felt cold all of a sudden,"this isn't  -- it's not..."</p><p>El shook his head and pulled her gently against him. "I didn't think of it, maybe I should have." He exhaled. "There's plenty about me that would put you off."</p><p>It had the ring of an apology, an apprehensive note there, and Mara didn’t want that. "I don't think so. I was just curious why. I didn't mean to put you on the spot. All of that is -- it's none of my business. Not that I don't want to know. I do -- if you want to tell me, but I understand. There's not so pleasant things about me too and I'm not -- I can't discuss them, even if I wanted to -- for safety, not because I don't want to. I--" She made a small irritated sound and pressed her forehead against his chest, her voice muffling. "I'm no good at this." </p><p>El smoothed a hand over her hair and she raised her eyes to see him smile. He'd have to be an odd bird for sure to be charmed by her floundering, but that had been the only way to describe his smile. </p><p>Mara looked back down, ignoring that discomfiting feeling that came over her at it. Not bad exactly, but weird.</p><p>"I don’t think I want this to be a one-time thing,” she murmured, making her tone coy, pressing her lips against his sternum. </p><p>”No?” El played along, wide-eyed and everything.</p><p>”And I think,” Mara stopped to kiss just under his collarbone, “your bedroll might be more comfortable than mine.” She kissed further up his shoulder. “I think I should test it.”</p><p>”You? Should I take the alcove?”</p><p>She bit him lightly for the tease, smiling against his skin when he gasped. ”No, I think <i>we</i> should...stress test it. If that is of interest.”</p><p>”It’s of interest.” She felt his hand along the middle of her back up to her nape, stopping just under her ponytail. “Very much.”</p><p>”Good.” She looked up. “And maybe you won’t be so polite this time.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Later on Mara would think of it as a lost day, maybe the best one she’d ever had. Light blared through her closed eyelids, trying to pull her to wakefulness. She shifted a little taking stock that she was still sweaty, still sticky, a dull soreness at her thighs, her lower back. A caress at her thigh pushed her to full wakefulness, her hand brushing something soft-- she blinked, lifted her head to see El mouthing at her skin, his hair brushing against the back of her palm.</p><p>Mara covered her mouth with her other hand, but too late, a giggle broke out of her loud and <i>awful</i>. El raised his head, his smile lazy-smug and mischievous at once.</p><p>"I didn't know you were ah," she broke off when El lowered his mouth right between her legs, "s-erious," and promptly lost whatever else she was going to say.</p><p>"Oh, I was very serious," he said when he surfaced, his fingers stroking up and down her folds. "You said you didn't mind."</p><p>"I don't." Only that the details were foggy in her head. By the time she'd collapsed in a sweaty, utterly worn-out heap last night the light outside had seemed to be a murky gray. Not night at all.</p><p>Mara did remember El kissing between her shoulders and asking huskily, “Should we get up to go to Bestine in a couple of hours?"</p><p>Just as she remembered groaning into her pillow, and garbling out a "Tomorrow," because surely an extra day made no difference.</p><p>“Careful.” She now threaded her hand through his hair gently, thinking that no, an extra day made no difference at all, while he gave her long, leisurely strokes of his tongue, more of a delicious tease than anything else. “Could have kicked you...by mistake.”</p><p>He pulled off to scoot over her for a sticky, messy kiss. “You wouldn’t," he said breathlessly. "You're too used to me now." El kissed her again before she could reply, his hand sweeping down her torso, sliding between her legs. He eased his fingers into her, and if felt a little different, even with how wet she was. The slight sting wasn't really bad -- but he must have felt her flinch a little because he drew his hand away, shifting to bite kisses down her chest, her belly.</p><p>"El," Mara meant to protest, but it became a moan when his mouth was back on her, tongue lapping across her clit steadily while she dug her heels into the bedroll, bucking her hips, her climax rushing through, her fast and hard. </p><p>He kissed the side of her knee before scooting up to kiss her lips again, and she thought he might like kissing because he did it often and <i>meanderingly</i>, like there was no particular end. That had seemed true last night, too.</p><p>Mara sat up without breaking the kiss, swinging a leg over his hip while she sucked at his lower lip. His hips bumped up against her, a reaction that sent her pulse racing. She pushed slightly and he went, a hand under her thigh to help settle her astride him, and he was open terrain, an expanse of tan skin for her hands, her mouth.</p><p>Her lips lingered just below his jaw, a hand smoothing down his arm. She dragged her mouth down his neck, his chest as his hands splayed down her shoulders, a caress that felt encouraging. She’d done quite a bit of exploring last night and it’d felt like this too,  wonderfully aimless. Or rather, she'd been following a simple desire to test out the ridge of his ribs, the change in texture of the scar at his side, and the others behind his shoulder, the softness of the skin of his midriff. He smelled like sweat and <i>her</i>, the discovery thrilling, a deep curl of pleasure at how <i>evident</i> knowledge of someone else could be.</p><p>His breaths had sharpened at some point, as they did now when she palmed his cock. Whenever heat between them built to this it was a particular pleasure, too, to know she could arrange herself over him, or splay herself in invitation to see it through. The desperate noise he made now while she stroked him, feeling him slick in her hand made Mara wonder about continuing like this, but using her mouth instead. What she’d seen in all those holos couldn’t be <i>that</i> difficult.</p><p>Wrapping a hand around the base of his cock, she slid her mouth on him, salt on him not unpleasant. He made a low surprised sound, that made heat whoosh through her, up until his hips jolting forward, shoving him deep into her throat. She gagged, pulling off to cough, embarrassment rushing down her spine. </p><p>“Hey." El had sat up, reaching towards her. She shook her head and drew forward and over him again, a hand sliding him inside her, ignoring the slight sting, considerably more than with his finger, but far less than it’d been the first time. </p><p>"If you're too--" He broke off with a strangled moan that would draw out a smile if she weren't similarly caught, a slight shift forward sending a buzz of pleasure through her that made her forget any and all discomfort. He was back on track soon enough, lying back, but with a heavy hand on her hip. "We don't have to fuck this way if you're sore."</p><p>She drew forward to kiss him, enjoying his hiss when she tightened her pelvis. "It still feels good.” That was true. The slight sting had resurfaced, but even that gave her an oddly satisfying feeling, her body feeling well used, and she met his eyes. “Really good.”</p><p>Her response didn't seem enough to him, his hand still at her hip, brow slightly creased. Mara leaned forward to kiss him, drawn in even by his uneasy expression. She could definitely change that, she thought, bringing her hand over his, raising it to the side of her face.</p><p>--</p><p>They'd skipped lunch, and afternoon had fallen when Mara felt compelled to move off the bedroll and shower the excesses of the night and morning off. She would have dressed too, as a gesture at decency at the very least, but El supplied an argument about efficiency and convenience that she'd gotten him to punctuate with her gasping climax by the 'fresher door. She'd ended up having to wash up again, her body twinging enough that she knew she’d finally crossed into too sore for anything more. She'd stopped El's woebegone look with a glare, declared the subject off-limits, and had gone for her clothes. That is, until El had mentioned, a bit forlorn, that he liked just looking at her. </p><p>So now shoving her change of clothes back into her bag while he finished his own shower, Mara catalogued it as something new too, spending the day naked and useless. </p><p>“I'm due one of those do-nothing days," El pointed out when she brought it up, after he'd emerged toweling his hair. Mara very pointedly grabbed his clothes and shoved them into his bag, before sitting back down with a flourish.</p><p>El chuckled as he went to their stash of ration bars. He grabbed several and a bottle of water, passing her a ration bar when he plunked himself beside her on the bedroll. Rolling it up had also gotten a veto and she had to grudgingly admit lounging here was better than the alcove. "The kind my uncle hated. Wasn’t like chores back home were fun, but waking up before first dawn to find the day's gig is actually worse."</p><p>He'd said it casually enough Mara asked, "Where did you usually go?" as she unwrapped her ration bar and reached for her water bottle.</p><p>"Mainly the western side of the city, it's not the Heights," Mos Espa Heights, the commercial center of the city, "but there's lots of movement there," He explained, wrinkling his nose at his ration bar as he unwrapped it. Mara smiled. If anything, going to Bestine would mean real food. She promptly squashed the pang that surfaced. </p><p>"Jabba's people keep the Heights pretty locked up for their own, but the rest of spaceports all around the city are on their own when it comes to work." El bit off the top of his bar. "If you're lucky the pa la there will have a surplus and can fit you in somewhere," he said over it. "They just want to get routine work -- maintenance, moving, clean up done so they can get ships in and out."</p><p>"Pa la?" Mara asked, taking a bite of her bar. </p><p>"Facilitator? Broker," he said after he'd taken two more bites. "They hand out the contract work, usually some spaceport director’s errandbeing." He took a swig of his water.</p><p>"Even…" she gestured to his left hand. </p><p>He shook his head. "No, they don't deal in skin.They’re focused on their task list, have ship quotas to meet for whoever owns the spaceport. If there aren't enough guild sentients for whatever they need you can get into their list for. Three- ten. Thirty percent. Give or take."</p><p>"The kickback," Mara supplied.</p><p>"Yeah. They call it duba-hunto." Mara recognized the numbers in Huttese. Done with the bar, El crushed the wrapper. "Guild always gets priority and full pay, well, after the higher ups and Jabba get theirs."</p><p>Sounded about right for what she’d read about Tatooine’s shadow economy. She plucked the wrapper from his hands, standing up to dispose of it and hers. "You never wanted to join a guild?"</p><p>"Guilds are owned by Jabba too," he pointed out. "But I couldn't even if I wanted to fork over their fees. You need a card." </p><p>The licensing he’d mentioned, appended to an identicard. Usually you’d need credits and some sort of guarantor from the guild to be considered for membership.  She sat back on the bedroll. "So when you're not guild you get -- the leftovers?"</p><p>"Basically. Surplus. That's not the worst that can happen though. Some asshole pa la double book to make sure they get their quotas done regardless of if their tech or hand gets lazy." El shook his head and took another swig from his water. "Then when the guild tech shows up they just shove you at them like they had no choice but to give you the job." El stopped, expression darkening. "Guild will never go after the pa la. They're passing a good portion of their credits to Jabba too, and guild’s incentivized to protect its own."</p><p>Mara’s eyes wandered down to the scar at his side. She peeled her eyes away, going for her water.</p><p>El opened another bar with an air of resignation. "A decent pa la will let you know if it's guild or surplus. When it's surplus you're not taking anyone's spot, but there's not that many spots so you have to catch one quick before someone else does.” </p><p>Mara looked up at him. "Giving up thirty percent…"</p><p>"You don't end with a lot, no," El said after chewing his bite. "So you can't depend on contract work alone. Sometimes there's no surplus at all. Even when there is you get used to late nights, early mornings, on and on. Hope you're not in the wrong place at the wrong time and have to start over. They say eventually everyone without a card ends up in a gang." El laughed softly, a slight bitter note staining it. "I met someone who said whatever time you spend without joining some gang or other is nothing but a shopping period."</p><p>She recalled what he’d mentioned the night they’d come to the hut. Being in a gang was little more than indenture, that was common knowledge. Whatever protection and resources they offered came at a high cost. </p><p>"It doesn't really matter, Jabba owns them too." She watched him crumple the wrapper in his hand, his voice flat as he continued, "The ones he doesn't, he will eventually. Or he'll wipe them out."</p><p>"How long have you been doing this?" </p><p>"Little over…," El dragged the word out as he worked it out, "A year?" He stood and got rid of the wrapper, taking another swig of his water when he returned. A melancholy cast had come to his eyes, his voice growing small. "Went by faster than I thought."</p><p>He reached for her again, resting his cheek by her shoulder, sighing a little, his arms draped loosely around her. She brought a hand to his back stroking idly. It would go fast if he were barely scraping by for that long, but that did mean he'd spent most of his childhood with his relatives at least. What had happened?</p><p>El kissed just below the hollow of her throat, and it felt different from before. Mara supposed she could see how a less disciplined person could lose their head over a fling. Something did come over her at the way her body tensed and shook under his. Even before then, all she could fit in her head was how much she craved him touching her, the exquisite fit of his body against hers. But this wasn't that.</p><p>It was...simple. But that was good, not precarious at all. This now wasn't all that different from how it'd been the night before either, when they lay close and he teased her with some foolishness that she was obligated to roll her eyes at.</p><p>"I didn't have chores growing up. But my instructors always said I should do useful things with my time," she ventured. "Not that I had a lot of free time. Usually just my birthday and, um, just after an assessment."</p><p>"No watching the latest Core holo?" he said, raising his gaze, a teasing spark back in his eyes.</p><p>Mara snorted. "Frivolous. That how you spent your time after chores?"</p><p>"I would have tried if they actually made it here, but not that many did. And by twelve there was no time after chores on most days." He straightened up. "My uncle made sure of it. But there <i>was</i> this one I saw my aunt Dama's place," he went on after several beats. "About a boy who found himself in another galaxy. I think that was filmed at the Core somewhere. He went around battling beasts with some sort of fire sword. Piloted a shiny ship shaped like a slug."</p><p>Mara snickered. "Slug?"</p><p>"<i>Slugthrower</i> slug," he explained, sounding a bit offended and Mara let out a loud laugh. He continued, undaunted, even a little excited. "Sleek, very reflective like liquid metal. And that fire sword? It came out of his hand like lightning." He grinned, letting go of her to spread his palm dramatically. "Most amazing thing ten year old me had seen. With that kind of ship he <i>had</i> to have come from somewhere in the Core. "</p><p>"Obvious censor bait," Mara pointed out, still laughing. "Couldn't have been Core-made. A fire sword’s too close to a lightsaber.”</p><p>“I guess.” He frowned slightly. “Not what I was thinking at the time.”</p><p>“Of course not." She waved a hand. "You were a child. Swords, fancy ships, it's all certainly made to be appealing.”</p><p>A sudden tension seemed to take hold of him, wariness seeping into her in turn.</p><p>“What is it?” she asked.</p><p>“You know, that journal,” El started slowly. “The one with the stories about Jedi?"</p><p>She nodded. “What about it?”</p><p>“It’s got...schematics. For a lightsaber and instructions on how to make one.”</p><p>Mara scoffed. “You’re not serious.”</p><p>He shifted away from her towards his pack.   </p><p> “There’s no way.” Mara shifted to lie on her stomach, propping her chin with her hand as she observed him, eyes trailing down the lean lines of him, feeling renewed interest but even that movement pricked. She had definitely crossed the line to too much. They could try other things though, he had--</p><p>“Here." El was offering the journal to her, open on a page. He tapped on the page. “This.”</p><p>She chuckled. “It can’t be real. What are the chances a scavenger--” she looked down and felt her brows draw together as she followed the Aurebesh labels along the hand-drawn illustration. “Can’t be,” she mumbled, and was off the bedroll going to her own pack. “How could…” She drew her own lightsaber out, and her multitool and went back, sitting behind the book, peering down to the illustration. El sat in front of her, the book between them. </p><p>“Power cell, activation lever, emission matrix,” she read. It was all there with some cosmetic variations. But there was more. </p><p>Directly below it, the blueprint detailed its inner components. She opened the casing up, eyes flickering back and forth between the schematic and her lightsaber.  “Energy gate, energy chamber, cycling field energizers, modulation circuitry.” Again, all there. </p><p>A chill went down her spine. </p><p>Her eyes lowered more to the small text underneath. “A high carbon mineral,” she dropped a finger to scan along, “through geological compression yields a focusing crystal with…” Mara eyed further down, “In heat for twenty-four hours to four days…”</p><p>Mara laughed, suddenly relieved, finally looking up at El with a wide smile. “It’s not a schematic, it's a <i>recipe</i>.” </p><p>She gave another laugh, fuller this time. Of course it’d be wrong. </p><p>El was looking at her open lightsaber with undisguised curiosity. His gaze shifted up at her laugh, then returned to the open casing, the parts arranged on the bedroll in front of her, aligned with the labeled illustration.  </p><p>Mara grabbed her crystal from the holding chamber. Briefly, she contemplated lifting it up and making it glow, but decided against the theatrics. It’d lead to questions she wasn’t sure she wanted to answer.  </p><p>“This is where the blade comes from. You don’t,” she scoffed in the journal's direction, “bake it like a cake. They’re special crystals. Someone had to find them. This one came with mine.” She put the crystal back and grabbed her multitool. </p><p>“The rest of it is accurate,” El said quietly. “Isn’t it?”</p><p>She waved a hand. “Lightsabers aren't complicated weapons -- not that hard to fashion from an engineering standpoint,” Mara replied, reassembling the lightsaber. “You know you need to direct the plasma, so you would need focusing lenses, energy conduction circuitry and a power source. With a little bit of time, guess work could lead you to it. The crystal is what makes them rare.”</p><p>His disturbed look didn’t lift. “And you have two of those. One you found here.” He stopped again, still with that reserve. “Are they the same?”</p><p>She shook her head, finishing assembling hers. After, she darted back to her pack and fished out the one she’d found, laying it beside her. "No. Here. This is the one I was sent to get." She handed hers to him. "This one's mine."</p><p>Gingerly, he reached towards it. </p><p>"It's got a safety, El. It won't accidentally spear you if you hit the wrong button."</p><p>He chuckled, his tension breaking somewhat. "Can I turn it on?"</p><p>"Sure." She reached past his hand to flick off the safety. "Activator--"</p><p>"This one," he gestured with his index finger over it.</p><p>She nodded and leaned back. His eyes flickered to her and she nodded with a smile, waving him to go ahead. He pressed it, her magenta blade materializing with the usual snap-hiss. </p><p>"I'd let you test it, but it's best done somewhere open and you insisted all clothing would just end up coming off anyway. Also it's--"</p><p>The lightsaber snap-hissed off and her words were silenced by his kiss, exuberant enough she ended up on her back on the bedroll.</p><p>"I can put clothes on," he said, looking down at her with a grin.</p><p>Disappointing, she thought and affected a put upon expression. “It isn’t a fire sword, El.”</p><p>A mock hurt look replaced the grin. "I should have <i>never</i> told you that."</p><p>She couldn't resist pulling him down for another kiss.</p><p>--</p><p>"It's really heavy compared to yours," El said, hefting the lightsaber she'd recovered from the Hutt with a two-handed grip. </p><p>“That’s what I thought.” Mara sat by the hut's shadow, her lightsaber on her lap as she watched him handle it. </p><p>“Feels odd,” he summed up. “All the weight is the hands. Here.” He lifted the hilt up, the blade at a downwards angle.</p><p>“The wrists, yeah.”</p><p>“And I keep expecting it to be hot too," he continued as if working out a puzzle. "But it’s…not. Like it’s got...a magnetic encasing.”</p><p>Mara grinned at him. That's how it worked, the magnetism for all intents and purposes functioning to hold the plasma. He'd been as quick, as he always was, observant. “A containment force field.”</p><p>He shut it down and examined the hilt again. “It’s more banged up than yours too. So weight didn’t stop whoever it was from using it." He raised his head towards her, squinting in the late afternoon sun. "You said you <i>don’t</i> use it as a sword.”</p><p>“Precision tool. Makes a fusion cutter look like a turbosaw. If it's self defense, it's easier to have a blaster any day." She thought it over. "I guess it was more of a prestige weapon for Jedi anyway.”</p><p>El went towards her and gave the lightsaber back. “Still you must have trained a lot on it. Even to cut with it doesn't seem that easy given its handling. You use it often?”</p><p>“I use it some,” Mara said, wishing she could tell him about the Force. She leaned against him when he sat beside her. “But when I carry it, it's more about what it means."</p><p>He snaked an arm around her. </p><p>"My...guardian he was the one who gave it to me as a kind of...graduation present. Told me the crystal was rare and that he was...proud of all I'd learned until then. So not just the lightsaber, the crystal too is one of a kind. He said I would do great things."  She could feel her smile turn rueful. "I haven't really done that much yet--"</p><p>"Considering you stole from the most powerful being on the planet, I'd say you're doing ok."</p><p>She laughed and nudged him slightly with her side. "I had help."</p><p>"Well, I'm glad you showed them to me. They're rare, right? I probably won't see one again."</p><p>"That's a good thing," she pointed out, thoughts drifting to LaRone and them. "These days, the wrong person can make too much out of nothing."</p><p>"Imperials, you mean."</p><p>She nodded. "You have to keep away from all this stuff, El," she told him solemnly. "It's not a joke." </p><p>"You really don't get worried they'll catch you?"</p><p>It seemed absurd enough that she smiled a little.  "My boss is everywhere. I'd be gone before they could blink." Her smile faded. "But I'm serious, El. Someone finds you with that journal and they won't ask any questions. Even if it's nonsense. Not now. They'll just take you in and..." She swallowed, not liking the conversation's direction suddenly. Maybe she shouldn't have shown him the lightsabers at all. "Just leave it behind when we go."</p><p>He stayed silent, a kind of closed off quality in it, and Mara recoiled, how had she made things so dreary so fast? She wracked her brain for anything light. "You know, I keep thinking of you passing your aptitudes. You must have known you'd be a shoo-in for the academy."</p><p>"Not a shoo-in." He looked down to the gravel at their feet. "There were still other parts to the application, the written --"</p><p>She tsk'ed. "No one cares about the written portion. It's just an add-on, a little bit of color. In the Core, kids are groomed for the test their whole lives. The richest families here too, I bet.Your family must have been so proud."</p><p>He gave her a sad smile. "My aunt was. I don't think my uncle cared. He would have preferred I crashed and burned, to be honest."</p><p>That seemed...cruel though El hadn’t said it with any resentment. "I'm sorry," Mara whispered. She shouldn't have brought it up -- he'd mentioned having to withdraw, hadn't he? This was why she knew better than to ask. "I shouldn't ha--"</p><p>"He thought it was childish to want to leave," El added with an air of confession. "That I just needed to be older and I'd be all right living here. Every time I'd run away, my uncle would tell me that. Like it was just a phase. He might have said exactly that."</p><p>A runaway. The pieces seemed to click into place. That's what he was. His home life <i>had</i> been unhappy. Mara slid her hand over his. She'd been careless, talked too much without thinking.</p><p>"I wish I'd have..left earlier or maybe that they'd...given up. Never come after me.” His voice faded for a time. He stared off sightlessly, and all she could do was squeeze his hand a little. Everything she could think of to say felt inadequate. </p><p>“I hate this place so much." The shake in his voice was obvious despite the half-whisper. "Back then it was because it was boring, every day was exactly the same, a fucking dead end but that wasn't enough…" Mara leaned her head against El's arm, her throat tightening. She couldn't make anything better, but at least, things would be different for him now.</p><p>"There’s been nothing good about this place. Not for a long time." His hand came to rest on her head, cupping it gently, an acknowledgement, just as the arm around her tightened. She dared to think that not just the knowledge of a better future, maybe just them being here made some difference, too. "Until now."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Southeast of the Wastes.” El traced the lower area on her datapad's map later that night. They lay so close on the bedroll, sprawled on their stomachs, that his arm slid against hers as he did. "That's the Great Chott. Even Anchorhead can’t really be called a city."</p><p>“We could start there after Bestine," Mara replied. "Going down by," she stopped to read, "Marauder Trail, after we leave Bestine." </p><p>He'd shifted half on top her, a leg between hers, hard, but without any particular urgency. Yet. "That one's further from the Wastes, right? By the pirate ship wreck?" he asked, nuzzling by her shoulder. Mara had come around rather quickly to how he'd single-handedly demolished the notion of personal space -- even when it should be too hot for him to be on her like varnish. 
</p><p>Mara shrugged. That wasn't on her map. The screen showed the path moving north slightly before curving down.</p><p>"The other one's a better bet." El shifted her braid to run his lips across her shoulderblade. "Just in case a sandstorm rolls in. Could be some cave--"</p><p>She snorted and attempted to look back at him over her shoulder. "What is it with you and caves?" expecting a kiss but he pouted at her and poked her side.</p><p>Mara squirmed with a disgruntled noise, giving a half-hearted, awkward swat in his direction before she turned back to the map. "So that would be this?" </p><p>He shifted up to glance at the map over her shoulder. "Yep, Feeder's Tail," then dropped his head back to her nape.</p><p>"Trail," she corrected.</p><p>"Uh-uh," El said against her spine, "look again."</p><p>She hmph'ed. He'd been right, but whatever. "What's a feeder anyway?" she grumbled.</p><p>"Some old name. For a biting thing." A hand slid over her breast as he feigned a growl and a bite at her shoulder. "I'll protect you like last time."</p><p>Mara snickered. "Yeah, all right. So Feeder's Tail down to..." she tracked the path down with her index finger, "Anchorhead?"</p><p>He'd gone still behind her. When she turned her head, his expression had clouded over. “What is it?”</p><p>“Nothing...you really mean to go to Anchorhead?”</p><p> “Seems the closest point to settle to work through the area -- well, other than Mos Eisley." She inclined her head, remembering his objections about the southmost port city. "We could try Mos Eisley. Would you rather that?”</p><p>“No,” he shook his head firmly, “definitely not Mos Eisley.” It made sense, given the city was close to lockdown based on what she heard.</p><p>“We’re in the clear now. It’s been three days.” Something squeezed in her chest and she slid away to sit on her knees. “But you don’t have to come with me, El," she said gently. "I meant what I said, you’ve waited long enough.” </p><p>She could see worry lodged in his eyes, darkening their blue, but his expression quickly shifted to that obstinacy she’d grown familiar with.</p><p>“I meant what I said too." He reached to pull her into his lap, leaned down, about to say something. His gaze turned curious as he took a loose strand of her hair between his fingers. “The red is back.”</p><p>Mara frowned. Already? But yes the bottom half of her hair’s brown was glinting reddish. She must have lost track. "The coloring agents I use never last that long. I think the estimated duration of this job was about a week. I have more."</p><p>El made a disappointed sound.</p><p>"I'm surprised you remembered. You saw it for what, an hour?” She tilted her head up for a kiss. He urged her back onto the bedroll, lips at her jaw, her neck. </p><p>"Oh, much longer than that. Much." He shimmied down her body, kissing between her breasts. "It looks." His lips were at her midriff now. "Good." Then her hip. "On you."</p><p>"What?" Mara frowned, confused. "No, I dyed it the first day, remember? Back at the <i>Runner's</i>--"  She raised up on her forearms to peer down at him quizzically. El pointed a meaningful look down between her legs. </p><p>"Ugh!" Mara covered her face and let out a dismayed half-groan half- laugh, as her head fell back on the bedroll. "Crass!"</p><p>"Sorry," El replied between chuckles without a shred of apology. His lips traveled back up by her navel, the warmth of his breath raising up gooseflesh. "Not decorous, huh?"</p><p>Mara made a sharp chiding noise, bumping his side lightly with her knee. El retaliated with a bite at her hip, making her squirm before coming back up for another kiss to her lips.</p><p>--</p><p>They left just a bit after first dawn. El odd restlessness clear to her while he checked their packs. He'd seemed his usual self most of the night before, but there had been moments where Mara had felt him uneasy. He'd been fine when they'd woken too, but no sooner had they disentangled Mara felt a dull anxiety begin to gather in him. She couldn't shake the feeling that he was concerned about something, but he'd brushed it off every time she asked.</p><p>It had to be their leaving the hut. Maybe he was still nervous that Jabba's thugs would track them -- a valid worry, but Mara found it unlikely. As far as Jabba’s goons were concerned, they could be anywhere. The Hutt was occupied moving his vaults and the headquarters of his operation, surely two petty thieves couldn’t rank very high on his priority list.</p><p>“So beyond Anchorhead, how big exactly is the Great Chott?” Mara asked as they piled their supplies on the bike. </p><p>“Big, but not that populated outside of Anchorhead -- and that’s about as big as a section of Mos Espa.”</p><p>Mara grunted. That sounded like a lot of opportunities for the dissident to realize someone was looking for him, <i>if</i> he were onplanet, a big enough if. He could be anywhere. </p><p>“Anchorhead itself isn't that big,” El said, his voice somewhat flat as he got on the bike. It got that way when he was concerned. “Only has about a couple dozen businesses, three or four cantinas. More like an outpost.”</p><p>Mara slid her hands up his shoulders as she settled behind him on the bike, feeling his muscles bunch up. “Something wrong?"</p><p>“No.”</p><p>"El," she called softly. </p><p>He sighed. “I don't really like Anchorhead either.”</p><p>Oh. She remembered his objections to Mos Eisley. “Bad experience?" A short pause. "Personal?"</p><p>"No," he replied. "Just I would rather not be recognized there, that's all. But it's no big deal."</p><p>The tension in his shoulders hadn't lifted. It didn't feel like something trivial. "You don’t have to take me that far," she murmured.</p><p>“No, let’s go. It’s been a while since I’ve been there.”</p><p>“And we are planning to stop by Bestine anyway. You could wait for me there." She squeezed his shoulders. “If Anchorhead is trouble, it’s not a bad idea, El. I have to get back to Mos Espa anyway. Just give me a couple of days to skulk around and see what turns up, then I'll be back and we can head back. Take the time to figure out your next steps more concretely.”</p><p>“It’s not <i>trouble</i>. Let’s go.” He put on his helmet and started the engine, forestalling any more of her protests.</p><p>--</p><p>Compared to Mos Espa, Bestine, at least the outskirts of it, was quiet and clean, as clean as any settlement out in the desert on this third rate planet could be. They’d gotten in just a little after midday, the suns already making her feel like her helmet and headscarf weren’t enough, her throat scratchy with sand and dust. It’d been a relief to see the buildings of a settlement at the horizon. The shimmering heat made them first seem like a mirage. </p><p>For a capital, even from the map Bestine hadn’t looked big at all, the city limits set up on the foot of a hill just below the towering edifice of an Imperial garrison that protected it. The sandy haze around it cleared as they approached, blocky  dwellings growing more substantial, as they entered the bounds of the town. The occasional blare of white stormtrooper armor broke up the dull brown of the sandstone streets. </p><p>Even now with most of the town indoors, fleeing from the midday heat, stormtrooper in pairs posted in front of several buildings, a few directed the traffic, prepared to act at the least sign of lawlessness, but Bestine wasn't Most Eisley, and she and El weren't stopped as they crossed the city, easing seamlessly into the sparse traffic into its central area.</p><p>While Bestine was ostensibly Tatooine’s capital, there was a more restrained atmosphere overall than what Mara had seen in Mos Espa. Even from the outset, the city appeared less crowded; Mara didn’t see the animal traffic that was so common in Mos Espa either, perhaps it was illegal for public hygiene reasons here. It certainly smelled better though the sharp tang of fuel still clung to the dry air. Judging by the holo signs pasted beside the storefronts bearing the names of two candidates, it was a planet-wide election cycle, something she wouldn't have suspected from her time at the port city.</p><p>Mara had them stop by the microscopic financial district, barely a street where the largest banking conglomerates had their Tatoonian branches. El’s tension hadn’t lifted during the ride, if anything it had become worse once they'd crossed into the district, more like a couple of streets as far as Mara was concerned. His eyes kept darting to the nearby stormtroopers stationed before the imposing entrances as he parked the bike in a public lot down the paved street. </p><p>“Let's get something to eat," he said after he'd shut the engine.</p><p>"I saw a couple of places as we were pulling in." Maybe that would make him more at ease, she thought as she packed her goggles and helmet. She'd change wherever they ate. </p><p>Mara noted that while he’d stowed his helmet and goggles away, he kept his headscarf. He hadn’t done that at Mos Espa, save when they’d had to contend with the sandstorm. </p><p>El caught her looking and pushed it off. Mara stepped away from the bike and into the street. The place was only about a block or so down, a busy looking eatery with a host kiosk up front. El trailed behind her, blaring a weird kind of reluctance as she approached the kiosk. He'd eaten ration bars for days, why be picky now?</p><p>The human host, a few years older than she and El clad in a pressed navy blue tunic and pants, gave them an odd look that vanished the moment Mara opened her mouth asking for a table. She supposed it was the financial district and their dusty flightsuits.</p><p>The restaurant was larger than it looked from the outside, opening up to a courtyard, a nondescript garden with a small fountain at the center, tables arranged around it. The patrons were human as far as she could see, dressed in tunics far more somber than she'd seen in Mos Espa, whatever went for office workers and bureaucrats here, she guessed. A few serving droids milled about, taking orders, wiping down tables, and bringing out food, a rare sight in any eatery that attempted to present itself as sophisticated. That was different here, she assumed. She was about to comment on this to El, but he was staring at the garden so fixedly she had to touch his arm to get his attention.</p><p>"It's pretty," he muttered as the host led them to their table.</p><p>The host's smile was closer to a sneer. "Pretty? The owner had them imported from Brodo Asogi, the famous Green Planet in the Core. He even hired expert outlanders to cultivate them."</p><p>Mara laughed outright. "Brodo Asogi isn't in the Core. It's somewhere in the Outer Rim." She flashed an amused look at El as she sat down then cocked her head at the host who'd lost the sneer. "Whoever told you that was either stupid or ignorant. Possibly both." She chuckled, shaking her head. The host's sneer had vanished, and his cheeks were swiftly reddening, as he looked anywhere but at her. "Passing off some rim weed as a garden flower. Please."</p><p>The host left them the menu, muttering his rote pleasantries, but leaving as if he couldn't get away fast enough.</p><p>"Real food at last, right?" Mara muttered as she scanned down the menu, finding a mix of local dishes and standard fare. "I'm so used to ration bars, even on ships I forget about mealpacks. Eating always feels like a waste of time when I have something to do, but you're not used to them. I should have kept that in mind. Oh, they have gartro omelettes. Very popular in Coruscant." Not the kind of thing you'd find anywhere billing itself as upscale though, she thought.</p><p>She looked up. A few beats passed and El hadn't said anything. He'd put the menu aside, eyes back on that paltry arrangement of plants around the central fountain, something off about him. Mara felt like sighing. She was getting tired of asking the same question --</p><p>"Everything ok?"</p><p>And getting the same reply: "Yeah, fine."</p><p>It clearly wasn't, and Mara tried again, leaning forward slightly. "You sure?"</p><p>His gaze returned to her, stormy suddenly. "Rim weed?"</p><p>"What?" She pointed to the garden when he didn't answer. "The plants? What about them?"</p><p>He held her gaze for a moment then shook his head. "Nevermind."</p><p>A droid came over with water glasses, El's eyes flickering up at it. Mara wasn't sure if it was due to the droid or the water. The droid asked for their orders, and she went ahead and asked for the omelette while El ordered one of the local stews.</p><p>"I'm going to change," she told him after it rolled away.</p><p>El looked at her, puzzled. "Change?"</p><p>"For the bank," she explained, standing up. "I'll be right back."</p><p>It was a hassle, but one worth going through to avoid too many questions. She'd brought with her a fresh set of gray slacks and tunic with a high collar that fastened at the side, the kind of bland outfit that wouldn't seem that out of place here. She undid her braid, pulling her hair back into a tight bun and pinned it, giving herself a check in the mirror. </p><p>Their food had arrived by the time she slid back into her seat. El registered her with a quick glance before his eyes widened, and he looked again.</p><p>Mara smiled tightly, bringing a hand up to her bun. The clothes were sedate, but the fit was impeccable, at least. The palace tailor was a human who'd been doing this his whole life. He was said to have a better eye than the couturier droids he oversaw. "What?"</p><p>"Nothing," he replied. "You look different."</p><p>It didn't sound flattering. "It's to make things faster. Anything having to do with credits goes by faster with a specific," she gestured at herself, "look. You look like how you want to get treated, after all."</p><p>She waited for him to say something light and teasing, but he resumed eating. "It <i>is</i> a little stuffy," Mara conceded, "That's the nature of these things."</p><p>"I didn't mean it like that," he countered tonelessly.</p><p>"It's fine, El." Of course it was, she thought going for her utensils. It wasn't like she'd changed to look attractive.</p><p>The rest of the meal went by with the same discomfiting atmosphere. Despite what he'd mentioned at the hut, El ate perfunctorily, his eyes shifting all around the space. If Jabba's people were going to attack they certainly wouldn't do it near a financial area. Mara mentioned as much, but El gave a noncommittal answer.</p><p>After that dismal lunch, they headed up the street. El's tension growing palpable as  a group of four stormtroopers came into view. They were assembled in front of a large ivory building, squarish like the rest of them, above the pillared entrance up the masonry steps, High Galactic lettering read <i>Aargau Investment Trust</i>. She was about to dart between the stormtroopers and up the steps in when El’s hand on her arm stopped her.</p><p>“I don’t have any identification,” he whispered, his grip bruising. “At all.”</p><p>Was that it? Mara squinted slightly at him. Was that what he'd been so anxious about since last night? She straightened her shoulders, lowering her voice. “No identicard?"</p><p>He shook his head.</p><p>She should have assumed that but…"That’s not a problem.” It wasn't and it certainly wasn't the kind of issue that should have been eating at him this much. </p><p>El stared at her at a loss.  “What? But if we get stopped--”</p><p>“I’ll take care of it.”</p><p>“The stormtroopers--”</p><p>“I said, I'd take care of it, but we won’t be," she snapped. He should trust what she said by now. "Stop acting like a twitchy hawkbat.” She strode forward. "Come on."</p><p>--</p><p>The withdrawal at the bank started with the human banker’s eyes narrowing at El a few discreet paces away, a casual mention of did <i>her folks</i> know she was making such a large withdrawal. Mara's impatient look along with her identicard and her encrypted InterGalactic Banking Clan chip stopped the avuncular demeanor in its tracks. She’d been told over and over that greed was the same throughout the universe.</p><p>A few minutes later, she walked out with El in tow, cash credits to tide her over for the rest of her stay, and then some, and, of course, a credit chip worth ten thousand with an open fingerprint encrypt. As they headed back to the bike, Mara followed El's line of sight to another group of stormtroopers and felt him tense. They wouldn't be stopped, she assured him yet again. If they did, she had the kind of cleared identicard that could cover them both -- illegally procured, but guaranteed to work. He either didn't believe or wasn't paying attention, giving even less acknowledgement to that.</p><p>Past aggravated by the day, Mara decided that after sleeping on the floor and slum hovels before that, they were due at least a plush night. Maybe that would help El relax.</p><p>She found a suitable inn just a few blocks further past that pretentious restaurant. An immaculate pourstone facade greeted her as they neared the building. Even from that, the inn seemed a marked improvement over the hovels at Mos Espa. Within, the area rugs were of an elaborate make, threads of bright red, yellow, and brown. There were even a couple of supposedly scenic portraits of the desert, of Bestinian landmarks on the walls. One of them was of a local museum of some sort. Mara stifled a snort.</p><p>She looked back and caught El’s impressed look, following it to a panel with Tatooinian glitter glass hung over the reception behind the granite counter.  The human clerk, a stout middle-aged woman with brown hair and a round face cleared her throat loudly. She examined her and El with a narrow expression, as if they were rowdy children about to ask to stay for free. Her expression soured further when Mara stepped forward asking for a single room, so much that Mara found herself glancing El's left hand, but there was no smudge or trace of riika powder left.</p><p>The alternative was the same assumption that backwards banker had made, some functionary's daughter taking on with one of the local rabble, the cliche of it very quaint. Quaint enough for Mara to slap a bloated credit chip on the counter and ask for the inn's best room before the woman could pull out some claptrap about <i>her folks</i>. She wasn’t about to be subjected to Outer Rim condescension again.</p><p>Mara went up the stone stairs, her mood dark. Of course stairs. She’d yet to see a building in Tatooine with a blasted turbolift, regardless of whatever might pass itself as high end. Bestine might be more polished than Mos Espa, but from what she’d seen its denizens only had an overinflated image of themselves.</p><p>“It’s old fashioned -- just look at all humans here,” El explained when she’d fumed at him, taking off her boots. He was still irritatingly taciturn. “And we <i>are</i> in the business district. They're not used to seeing someone like you.”</p><p>Like her? She squelched the impulse to ask what that even meant. The excuses grated. </p><p>Mara passed a hand through the sheets on the large bed. Not toumon cloth, but a marked improvement, she thought not pausing on her way to the ‘fresher, and stopped at her first glimpse of the Bantha calf sized-tub inlaid on its floor, the simple shower stall past it.  </p><p>“We could have stayed further out. It’s more re,” El broke off behind her and finished slowly, wide eyes on the tub, “laxed. Relaxed.”</p><p>Mara went into the 'fresher, lifted herself sit on the counter adjacent to the tub, her satchel beside her. Well then, the night was looking up. “This seems plenty relaxed to me.”</p><p>El walked in tentatively, still staring at the tub as if it were about to vanish any minute. </p><p>Mara looked through her bag and extended the chip the bank had given her to El. “Here. The encrypt is open so you can lock it with your fingerprint.” He slowly turned from the tub to her with that dumbfounded expression. She offered him a smile, feeling lighter all of a sudden. “Take it. The job would have taken me much longer without you. My boss wouldn’t begrudge you a single credit.”</p><p>She wished he would give her one of his sunny smiles and a quip, but his shellshocked expression was shifting into blankness. Wordlessly, he took it from her hands, still with that closed look. </p><p>Mara cleared her throat, back to feeling suddenly ill at ease. Why was he still so worried? “I told you no one would stop us."</p><p>But maybe if he were more comfortable, he'd be more open to reassurance. Pushing off the counter, she smiled. “And this is.” She walked to the tub and began fiddling with the controls, adjusting the temperature, “not a bad place...” A mechanism clicked and water began pouring in quickly from a valve at the side. Mara straightened and began peeling off her tunic, pants and underclothes, setting them aside in a nearby nook. “For the night.” </p><p>Mara stepped into the shower stall and examined the controls. After selecting her preferences, she scrubbed herself down. El remained by the door, unmoving. She could feel him there, his eyes on her even though her back was turned.  She would have wanted some sort of interest. If anything, this was the place for it, but the mood felt odd, all wrong still, his gaze on her in a different way that she couldn’t put her finger on. </p><p>Why wasn’t he saying anything either? It was so unlike him.</p><p>“Those credits were just what we agreed for the job," she spoke over the gushing water of the tub and the shower as she undid her bun, placing her pins on a dish that had been left along the stall. Gathering soap from a nearby dispenser she lathered her hair and rinsed it methodically, not bothering to wring it before switching the shower off. </p><p>“So we're square and now you can go anywhere you like. Though I'm...I'm happy you decided to come with me." She swallowed. "I know it's not...comfortable for you with the...identicard thing, but it won't be an issue."</p><p>Mara turned around, but he wasn’t looking at her now. He was looking at the water quickly filling up the tub, and it clicked. This kind of luxury was probably a bizarre experience for him -- the restaurant, the bank, the inn. That could be it. She checked the temperature and slid herself into it, seeing him register her there. If so, it should be better now. Here, it was only them. El lifted his eyes to her face, but she still couldn't read his expression, only feel his sense of unease. </p><p>“Hey.” She lowered her voice. He might just need the explicit invitation. He did have a tendency towards being careful. “There’s more than enough room for two.”</p><p>A beat and El shook his head. “It’s ok.” It surprised her how much it took to keep her smile. “I think I’m going to...get some fresh air. You need anything?”</p><p>The smile stayed on Mara's face through a knot that had begun to gather right at the pit of her stomach. The question irked too, offhandedly as he'd asked it -- like he'd done back at Mos Espa.</p><p>“No, thank you.”</p><p>El nodded, and that was it. A simple turn and he was gone. Mara looked down at the gushing water. A minute or two and the mechanism stopped the, water reaching her shoulders. It was warm, but she felt cold, cold and clammy with embarrassment. She closed her eyes. Too blatant an offer? Or maybe the credits had changed things somehow? She didn’t want to believe that, but what else was there?</p><p>Mara made herself stay in the tub for a full half hour although it was the least relaxing dip she’d had in a while, her thoughts a whirling mess. She wasn’t going to pay El’s weird behavior any attention, she decided. </p><p>She dressed and went over the maps for the Great Chott and Anchorhead. There was another oasis listed on the map and upon thinking she wanted to ask El about it, that knot tightened into indignance. </p><p>He didn’t <i>have</i> to help her. If he’d changed his mind, he could have just said so, not run away like a skittish borrat.</p><p>Mara pushed the datapad aside. She may have made mistakes when they’d first begun to know each other, but she’d acknowledged them. She’d apologized. Since then she’d accommodated. She’d tried hard not to probe at whatever ugliness lurked in his past, and she’d given him more than one out. How many times had she asked him? And he'd batted off her questions. What <i>else</i> was she supposed to have done?</p><p>Mara set her teeth and went for food. The inn had a small restaurant attached, but she wasn’t going to give it any more credits. </p><p>She chose a tapcafe a few streets away, which advertised “Core delicacies” at overinflated prices, poured over the weather reports on her datapad as she ate. Last thing she needed was to deal with another sandstorm on the way south. The comm connections were better in Bestine at least, but the weather projections had a high margin of error. As she weighed her plans, she tried to ignore the way the burn spread all over her chest. Until she couldn’t. </p><p>El’s work for her had ended. That was a fact, so there was no rational reason that he should insist in helping her with this. He was clearly uncomfortable, had been since leaving the hut, and if that made him unreliable, then it also made him a liability. </p><p>She didn’t need that. It'd been drilled into her: Liabilities get people killed.</p><p>He hadn’t returned to the room when she got back either. By then, Tatoo I already gone past the horizon. It only fed that tight burn in her chest, worse when she looked over at his bag. </p><p>He should have taken it, but she supposed living like he’d been he could do without it. She’d given him his credits -- those would be <i>his</i> fingerprints encrypting it. That should be enough. More than enough.</p><p>Unreliable. Liability. The words floated in her head. Any ally could potentially become a liability. Everything was a learning experience.</p><p>And so what then? He had ten thousand credits in hand. Would he blow those at some decrepit casino in the slums? Had it all been a con?</p><p>Mara grabbed her cloak from her things. She needed to know. If anything, to learn something. Bestine was quiet at night, the streets much less populated than Mos Espa's. She headed east walking and walking until the dwellings were grouped much closer together, away from the hills the top of which held the Imperial garrison. She stepped away from the throughfare looking up at it. No doubt its closeness was why Bestine was so tranquil and orderly. She grimaced. Possibly also why they thought themselves as bearers of some sort of standard. </p><p>It couldn’t have been a full con, she tried to reason over the sinking feeling that wouldn't give as she resumed her walk. El had already done what he needed. The lightsaber was safely packed and her trail was cold as far as Jabba’s people were concerned.</p><p>More sentients were out in this area, even a few aliens. Mara wouldn't even have noticed, were it not for El pointing out how absent they'd been in the financial district. No one gave her a second look. Mara didn’t know exactly why she’d come here, why she’d assume that she’d find El wandering around Bestine’s shantytown, though in retrospect she couldn’t imagine him going anywhere else. </p><p>The market in the area was the most bustling place she’d seen and while she didn’t relish the thought of all that noise and disarray, she had the feeling that if El would be anywhere in this sandpit, it’d be here. His exchange with the Zeltron at Dannar’s Claim flashed in her head and she shook off a weird feeling, anger certainly, but also disappointment? </p><p>It was no business of hers, she told herself firmly. He’d done what they agreed on. If she found him, she’d remind him of this and tell him to be on his way.</p><p>Mara passed through the market like a ghost, ignoring all the hawking and calling from the various stalls and kiosks, ignoring the reek of smoke and too many spices. Intuition led her on a diverging gravel path away from the evening revelry and towards a hill that overlooked the desert, past a narrow semi-circular area of haphazardly lit dwellings. </p><p>If both suns had been out, going by the map she’d committed to memory, it might be possible to see a bit of the Mesra Plateau, though Mara wasn’t sure. As it was, Tatoo II was dipping below the horizon, it’s bright point of light darkening the flat spread of desert around it. Mara went by several beings sitting clustered together, plates of food by them, talking in hushed tones.</p><p>She wasn’t sure what to expect, but she could pick him out maybe two yards away, regardless of him facing away, silhouetted in the dimming day.  He sat alone, a good five or ten feet from the nearest group of sentients, staring off into the distance.</p><p>Mara had come here to let him know that she wouldn't need him anymore, but she found herself unable to cross the distance, that tight ball of anger oddly undone. She couldn’t pinpoint why, other than maybe a sense of an abject loneliness in how he sat watching Tatoo II sink into the horizon. But that wasn’t a reason. Shouldn’t be. Only facts were reasons.</p><p>Facts couldn’t compel her to move though. Or explain what had replaced that knot of fury. At least the fury had been certain, even familiar. This? She didn’t know what this was -- an ache without explanation. A longing to go sit beside him -- but that was sentimental and uncalled for. Excessive. He’d chosen to come here and sit alone. </p><p>And he’d chosen it over her, despite the little time they had left.</p><p>Mara felt foolish. Foolish for having made an overture. Foolish for having come here. </p><p>But at least she wasn’t foolish enough to stay here.</p><p>Mara turned away to head back.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Like yesterday, Mara's first awareness was of El pressed up against her back, his hands gliding down her arms. She was wearing her sleep clothing again, but she made an encouraging sound anyway, blinking. Soft light from the fixtures gave the room a hazy glow. She must have been exhausted to not have woken when he'd turned them on.</p><p>El had lowered his head to her shoulder, nosing along her neck as his hands crept beneath her shirt, slipping under the waistband of her pants and underwear. His touch felt slightly different. Maybe it was the rough way he palmed her breasts, the stinging kiss he left at the side of her neck or the bold stroke of his fingers against her clit, not his usual prolonged tease. Mara rolled her hips back against him, his urgency clear even through the haze of her drowsiness, turning the flutter in her belly into a spreading heat. </p><p>She could feel the bulge of his cock against her ass through her clothing as she arched her hips into the insistent touch of his fingers, familiar now. If that brazen quality was new, it was deliciously so for it, her underwear was past damp already. Mara turned her head so El could kiss her -- a long kiss made filthy as he pumped two fingers inside her. </p><p>"Arica," he breathed. "Can we fuck?"</p><p>A laugh at the bluntness threatened to bubble up in her throat. He had his fingers thrusting inside her -- how was this not fucking? -- but she still felt groggy, so all that came out was a puff of air as she half-heartedly tugged at her underwear. El took the hint and maneuvered her on her back, scooting lower to pull her pants down, rubbing his cheek against her hip as he did, and she was grateful he had opted to go without his own clothing.</p><p>More than half awake now, Mara pulled off her shirt, feeling the graze of his wet cock against her thigh as he shimmied up. When he settled between her legs, breaths fast, he did so clumsily, a hand on the elastic of her underwear, yanking it half down her thighs. His coiled energy seeped into her, making her own lift of her hips jerky, her hands fumbling with his as they shoved her underwear down the rest of the way. </p><p>El’s hair fell over his face as he pushed in, then rocked his hips back, his next thrust harder, hard enough to make the bed squeak, hard enough to make Mara gasp, anchor herself with her hands on his back as he did it again. That desperate tinge hitting anew as he sped up. </p><p>She wanted to frame his face with her hands, pull him down for a kiss, but her hands kept sliding down the sides of his head as he moved. El took her wrists in his hands, and pinned them back on the bed with another hard thrust. Her own cry rang in her ears, the surge of pleasure at the upstroke catching her off guard, intensifying at the heat of his tongue when he licked up her neck. It felt hurried and sloppy, almost...animalistic, and Mara cried out again, writhing under him as he slammed into her, his grip like durasteel on her wrists. She <i>should</i> be thinking of breaking that hold, not canting her hips into his thrusts like <i>she</i> was desperate for this, for him, and the thought itself made her back bow, the onslaught like being lit from within.</p><p>The bed was no longer squeaking, banging against the wall instead, but Mara couldn’t focus on that, too caught up in how good El felt above her, inside of her.</p><p>He stopped, his thrusts losing rhythm, his moan a small hoarse sound. The pressure at her wrists gave as he dropped to his forearms over her, his lips brushing against her cheek, then down her neck. This wound up, his touch was too soft now, not nearly enough. Mara’s hands lowered to his shoulders, squeezing with a whimper.</p><p>Further down he moved to mouth at her breasts, lips closing over a nipple. She was all but thrashing, her nerves at knifepoint. Mara moaned at the scrape of his teeth, dug her fingers into his head, arching. A quick reprieve, she thought, but El’s mouth veered towards her ribs as he pushed her gently to the side. Mara rolled fully onto her stomach as he continued kissing down her back, raising her up to her knees. He rewarded her with an unhurried touch up and down her dripping thigh, his mouth still trekking down her spine.</p><p>El's had her in this position too and there was more heat, more of that agonizing, aching feeling at imagining herself on her knees, riding his hand. He cupped the round of her ass with both hands, his tongue teasing along the cleft of her ass, sudden and shocking -- her spine stiffened with her gasp.</p><p>“Ok?” he murmured, stopping. </p><p>“Y-yes,” Mara blurted out, “Yes.” Her breaths grew even shakier as his thumb rolled lightly, very lightly over her hole. Unexpected, and -- she moaned, burying her face in her crossed arms as his tongue traced the path of his thumb. Mara couldn't help a restless shift back against him for more. A long lick, and she moaned again. It felt...beyond lewd that he was doing this. She felt herself growing even slicker as he did. He went back to stroking his finger in leisurely circles around her hole. She drew in breath after breath caging herself with her crossed forearms, surrounded by the smell of her own sweat and arousal, feeling dull-headed as her belly tightened further at the obscene thrill of it. Shorter licks, slightly more pressure. She couldn’t but push back against his mouth, the arousal settling even more heavily in her core, that sharp ache of frustration making the blood thunder in her ears.</p><p>Stars -- she groaned, forehead sliding wetly against her arm His mouth was at her ass, with the same kind of enthusiasm he applied between her legs, even filthier because it felt... torturously good. Good without an outlet. Her hips arching, then bearing down, trying to get friction from the damp sheets beneath her. No relief. Nothing.</p><p>His tongue was confident, yet teasing, dipping in slightly, then lapping again. Would he fuck her like this? Fuck her ass? Get her messy wet like this, then shove in like it was his right, like he was entitled. It might even <i>hurt</i>. She was wailing now, an insistent throb aching between her legs, building to <i> nothing</i>, her hands clenching in the sheet, overtaxed nerves streaking light. Her breath caught as she shuddered violently, came out as a long, high-pitched whine.</p><p>El stopped, his hand stroking her hip as she went limp. She vaguely registered him making a surprised noise before he placed an open-mouthed kiss on her waist, stroking her outer thigh.</p><p>Mara turned her head, the pleasant fog lifted near instantly. Had she come from that? She felt her face flame. No, she couldn’t have. That would be bizarre.</p><p>But El didn’t seem put off as he moved up, kissing up her spine, hard again. Maybe even the opposite of being put off? He didn't seem inclined to mock her either, at the moment his interest was in dragging his mouth along the curve of her shoulder like he couldn't get enough of her skin. Mara felt herself relax.They definitely had time to go again. She tried to unscramble her thoughts enough to say so as he brushed her hair back from her nape. He froze before she could speak.</p><p> "I-I left a mark.  On your neck. I'm sorry."</p><p>It's fine," Mara replied, her voice scratchy, she slid an arm back to cover the hand he had on her hip and giving it a quick squeeze. She was about to mention she had cosmetics when last night clicked into place like a delayed holofeed. She went cold, the embarrassment, and an attendant fury rushing in. </p><p>No, he hadn't left last night. He'd returned at some point. Late enough she'd sat on the bed staring at his bag wondering if he'd decided to leave without it, taking just the credit chip. He probably didn't have much else in the bag, only clothes, no identicards, possibly no cash credits other than the ones he carried. Nothing of value anymore, really, all easily left behind.</p><p>Mara hadn't been able to bring herself to check. Just the thought of confirmation had given her a sense of vertigo, a sinking feeling far worse than anything she'd felt on Tatooine. When she looked at her chrono more than three hours had passed since she’d sat down. She'd get rid of the bag tomorrow, she'd thought, forcing herself off the bed.</p><p>She’d gone through her nightly routine feeling numb, had slid back into bed, looking up sightlessly at the ceiling. And then he'd returned. The abrupt flop of her stomach had been dizzying too, but she’d managed not to move, feigning a deep sleep.</p><p>It was too late to talk about anything, Mara had thought, the next day would be long  anyway. So she'd kept still as he went into the shower, as the 'fresher door opened, as he climbed into bed and drew close, as he brushed a kiss against her temple. The knot at the hollow of her throat had eased up, but only fractionally and there was a sour taste in her mouth.</p><p> She was too tired to broach what had happened, didn't even know what to say. Tomorrow, Mara had told herself again, staying up long after El's breaths had grown deep and even. Tomorrow. Sometime after that she'd finally slept.</p><p>It’d been a good lesson overall, she thought now pulling her hand away and extracting herself from under El in a set of swift methodical movements. A necessary one. </p><p>"Arica?"</p><p>She grabbed her flightsuit and darted into the 'fresher, closing the door behind her and leaning against it. All her life revolved around discipline and restraint. She could face it now: She'd let both slip. No more of that.</p><p>The rap at the 'fresher door startled her, though it shouldn’t have. "Arica? You ok?"</p><p>"Fine," she called back nonchalantly. "You need the 'fresher?"</p><p>"No...." </p><p>Then you can vape off, she thought, walking back and forth. </p><p>"Just...you seem upset."</p><p>She needed to get that discipline back, and then she needed to cut El loose. She was done accommodating.</p><p>Another rap at the door. "Arica?" Mara let the silence lengthen until it became heavy. "I shouldn't have left a mark," El continued. "I--I wasn't thinking-"</p><p>Of all the idiotic things to apologize for. "I don't care," she found herself calling out, approaching the mirror. Yes, there was a big blotch of red by the side of her neck, but her cosmetics had covered worse. "I'm not upset."</p><p>She was almost grateful for the mark. Covering it up gave her something to more to do. She showered and dressed, then set out to cover the mark. Too quickly she was done. After packing up the toiletries, she gave herself a final once-over and opened the door. This whole mission had spiraled beyond what she'd anticipated. It was time to shift it back on track.</p><p>El was standing beside the door when she came out. He straightened up immediately.</p><p>His eyes darted to her neck, over the area she'd covered with her cosmetics. "Arica --"</p><p>"It's fine." She moved toward her bag.</p><p>"You’re upset."</p><p>"I think," she didn't look at him as she shoved the clothing in her bag, “that since your job has concluded you should really take the credits and do what you proposed."</p><p>"What?" The confusion in his tone put her teeth on edge. Maybe he wasn't taking her seriously. He hadn't even gotten dressed. She went to the bedside table grabbed her datapad and shoved it in her bag too. "I said I --"</p><p>He needed to take her seriously. Mara turned around. "Last night I did some thinking and this <i>is</i> different from my previous job. I'm to gather information about a subject who could be dangerous. Who knows how people will react to my questions. It's not safe for an amateur. And if it's not safe then it makes you a liability." She shook her head. "I can't have that."</p><p>"You had all evening to think about how to get rid of me and this is the best you can do?" he asked in a mild tone she couldn’t place. Certainly not apologetic anymore.</p><p>She turned, and fixed him with her best aloof stare. "Facts are impersonal, El. It's a more reasoned conclusion to come to than your offer to help me." She spread her hands. "I've committed the maps to memory. I have weapons and know-how. No, I might not be as familiar with the desert as you, but I can find my way to Anchorhead and get the information I need. I'll be fine."</p><p>"This isn't about your next job or," he made a face, "facts."</p><p>It was a bit rich for El to condescend to her while he was naked. "For space's sake," she flashed him an annoyed look, "get dressed, El."</p><p>He scowled at her as he went for his clothes. </p><p>"You're good at faces," he was fuming now as he grabbed a set of pants from his bag, "and other people's voices, but do you even know what you sound like underneath all that? Everything's a cover."</p><p>Now it was easier to sneer, "I appreciate your judgement on my abilities."</p><p>"It's not a judgement on your abilities." He'd put on his pants and was shrugging on his tunic, tone veering more to frustrated than outright angry, but that didn’t matter anyway. "I'm calling you a liar."</p><p>He could think whatever he wanted to think. It made no difference. "If you want adventure -- and you'll find a safer and more worthwhile one elsewhere. And if it's playing at gallantry," she raised her eyebrows at him, "then by all means, opportunities for that aren't hard to find."</p><p>He gave her something close to an eye roll as he tied the front sash. "Do you <i>like</i> sounding like someone awful?"</p><p>"Sounding? You don't know me!” She forced out a laugh, spreading a hand. “Maybe you have me all wrong."</p><p>"No." El crossed over to her. "I don't." Mara took a step back, caught off guard. She should have swung at him or something, because he simply took another step forward and wrapped his arms around her. So many ways to escape, some involving bodily harm, a few not, and she tried none of them, just stayed very, very still. </p><p>Shove him off, she ordered herself, bitting her lip. He's being patronizing. This is patronizing. Shove him off, grab your things and go. Clean up your own kriffing mess and no one will know that you’re this pathetic. No one.</p><p>Mara tried again: “You're a -- a liability." Her voice sounded pitiful to her own ears. Repulsive. Again. "A liability." Better. "I can't have someone spooked working with me. You'll get us-- "</p><p>His hold loosened suddenly, her stomach doing that horrible plunging thing, but it was for barely a half step back to look at her, his arms were still around her. "Anchorhead. That's what this is about."</p><p>Mara clenched her jaw, but it escaped through her teeth: "I can't have you running out on me."</p><p>"Running out?” She felt him startle as he continued to stare at her in bewilderment. “I’ve never--” Then even more consternation, if that were even possible. “Wait. You thought I ran out on you yesterday? I told you I was just going to get some air. I walked around and then got something to eat. My bag was here the entire time.”</p><p>The mortification rose quick, made it easy to finally move away and spit out, “Take your bag and go. ”</p><p>He squinted at her. "You think I'd up and leave without telling you?"</p><p>"I’m serious. Go."</p><p>"Right," he muttered, going to his bag decisively. Mara curled a hand into a fist, her stomach now past that sinking feeling, knotting itself up. "You wouldn't believe me." But El didn’t pick up his bag, he only opened it and dug around. "Not you." When he turned back he held something in his hand.</p><p>The credit chip. </p><p>“Even if I were lying, which I'm not, how <i>stupid</i>,” he began slowly, “would I be to leave this behind?”</p><p>Mara blinked several times, wanted to look away, her face growing hot. She was caught, though she couldn’t explain...caught in <i>what</i>...It made no difference, she thought over the tightness in her throat. Not anymore. She'd set the line, now she had to hold it.</p><p>“Get out,” she whispered. </p><p>El didn’t move. Silence fell as she thought, all right so I leave. I'll leave. I have to. I have things to do. Things I need to do.</p><p>Mara didn't move.</p><p>“I have a better idea,” he said like nothing were amiss, his expression neutral as if he were simply giving her his take on the nearby routes. “I'm going to go get cleaned up  If you want to get ahead, why don't you go downstairs and check out. I won't take long, when I'm done I'll I get our stuff on the bike. Then we can go have breakfast and head out to the Motesta Oasis--it’s--”</p><p>“I know what it is,” she interrupted, not even knowing why she had. “I read about it yesterday.”</p><p>“There’s a--”</p><p>“Sandstorm, slated just past midday. And the estimated time there is over three hours.”</p><p>He nodded and his expression didn't change, but she got the sense he was faintly amused. “We’ll get to it before then, which is a good thing because the reports aren’t that reliable.” </p><p>Mara swallowed, feeling stupid and weirdly transparent. She should hold her ground. None of what she'd said was a lie. He was a liability, an amateur, plus easily spooked, and their business had ended. There was absolutely no reason to let this continue.</p><p>El approached and laid a hand on her arm, his thumb rubbing up and down her shoulder. She made herself stay very still, mostly to avoid going to the bed and lowering her face into her hands. </p><p>“Motesta is smaller than Pika,” he said quietly. Instead of looking at him, she angled her gaze just over his shoulder to the wall. “But it should have guest rooms, so we can stop there for the night and reach Anchorhead by tomorrow.”</p><p>She closed her eyes.</p><p>“I’ll see you downstairs." El waited, hand still on her arm, clearly waiting for confirmation.</p><p>Finally, she tipped her head once, watching him put the credit chip back into his bag. He went into the 'fresher like nothing had happened, as if she hadn’t spent the last fifteen minutes trying to get rid of him. </p><p>Mara grabbed her datapad as the shower came on. The weather report was still open from last night, and she saw her hand tremble as she went through it. Conditions had improved marginally, and the advisory had been moved back to evening or early tomorrow.</p><p>She was sure he wouldn’t mention what had happened just now again. Mara put the datapad away.  She’d said so many things, and El was just...ignoring them. Pretending this hadn’t happened. She didn't even know why.</p><p>Mara rubbed at her face. It’d never been like this with anyone she’d worked with, no one, not even close. It'd never been this aggravating and...confusing. Was it because they were fucking? </p><p>She wasn’t going to do that with any other ally. Never again.</p><p>It’s not going to last forever anyway, she told herself. All of this...weirdness would resolve itself as soon as the mission was over. She wouldn't have to force things one way or another. Mara straightened her shoulders and opened the door.</p><p>-- </p><p>Breakfast went just as Mara had expected, with no mention of what had happened. They’d gone to a smaller tapcafe than the one she’d visited alone last night, one with only a counter area. Despite the narrowness, it had a similar upscale feel from its sparse seating arrangements and the obsidianshine on the counter. It could pass for a serviceable diner back home, a rarity.</p><p>El had picked up details on the upcoming election, some clash between the military and merchant classes that he claimed most people outside Bestine didn't care about. She couldn’t care less about politics either, Tatooinian politics especially, but you never knew when a piece of information might turn out to be relevant in some way, so she humored him by listening and asking a question or two.</p><p>El's demeanor was casual, same as before. He was sitting too close to her on the counter, hand resting very casually on her knee, save when he touched her arm to emphasize his point. None of it was unwelcome, exactly. Her anger had filtered out, but she felt out of sorts in a different way, a little like being bruised.</p><p>Not that all that touching was uncharacteristic for him; it didn’t feel forced or fake. She was simply <i>aware</i> of it again.</p><p>“Didn’t like it?” he asked, looking at her nearly full bowl.</p><p>She shrugged. It was just a bowl of phraig with pallies, pika, and bristlemelon, a smattering of nutty tezirett seeds. Her appetite wasn’t much better than it’d been the night before.</p><p>“It’s fine." She fiddled a bit with her spoon, not wanting to have more. "I’m just not that hungry, I suppose.”</p><p>His hand was rubbing between her shoulder blades. At this hour, the tapcafe had only a few other patrons. A solitary Ishi Tib with a colorful robe at the far end and, two seats from them, two human women in flowing tunics, one dark green and the other indigo. </p><p>“You ate around here last night?”</p><p>Mara nodded, bringing her eyes back to her bowl. “A few streets over.” She didn’t know why he was asking, tried another spoonful. “It wasn’t very good,” she said after swallowing.</p><p>“Not at the hotel?”</p><p>She scowled. “No, I didn’t want to give them any more credits. They looked at us as if we were slashrats. Still looked at me like that when I checked out.” </p><p>He winced lightly. "Could have been a little... noisy this morning."</p><p>Oh. Mara forced another spoonful down, feeling her cheeks heat up.</p><p>"But yeah, she treated us like that when we got in," he added quickly. "Probably decided you seemed a little young to flash those credits. Like at the bank."</p><p>He'd said as much yesterday. Mara went back to her meal. It wasn’t a good idea to skip a meal, especially with the long day ahead of them. “I’ll be done soon,” she said between spoonfuls. “We should get going if we're doing a final supply stop.”</p><p>His hand was still at her upper back. </p><p>“I picked some place advertising dishes from the Core.” She didn’t know why she was telling him this. It was a useless piece of information filling up the air.</p><p>“How did it compare?”</p><p>Mara gave him a narrow smile over her last mouthful, and he chuckled. It was stupid. This whole exchange was stupid. But his hand hadn’t dropped from where it was rubbing up and down her back.  </p><p>She finished the last of her bowl and put her spoon down. She’d already settled their bill, so they simply got up and left. One of the human women lifted her head, glancing at them before continuing her conversation with her companion. El’s hand had come up again to her lower back, and Mara’s eyes flickered down to his opposite hand, where the marks on his knuckles had faded completely. </p><p>He caught her looking and Mara couldn’t hold his gaze, irritation flaring as they stopped by the bike. She was always feeling transparent these days.</p><p>"The weather advisory is for later," she mumbled.</p><p>He pulled his hand away, and for some incomprehensible reason that felt <i>worse</i>, for the split second before he lifted it to a loose strand of her hair. </p><p>“It takes about about a week and half,” he said breezily as if he weren’t talking about what constituted as an advertisement of sex for pay, "for the riika to fade."</p><p>“You applied it yourself or did someone do it for you?” she asked against her better judgement.</p><p>“There’s tiers. Jabba’s got several sentients who have that as a job. For them it’s...decorative too, I guess." He smiled a little, let the strand of her hair slide from his fingers, pad of his index finger ghosting along the curve of her cheek.</p><p> “I’ve never had an eye or time for...showy stuff. It was just about what I could get quick credits for. Those who hired me never cared about that sort of thing either. It was fine to do it myself.” His tone brightened as  he went for his gloves. “Though it <i>was</i> a hassle to have to go to the clinic, get the permissions, then go buy it, then have to paint it on,” he said, getting on the bike. “I’m glad I won’t have to do all that anymore.” </p><p>He put on his helmet and Mara followed, climbing on the bike behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing herself tight against him. If her hold was just a little too tight, well, that was just for safety.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So much help from <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangeallure/pseuds/strangeallure">strangeallure</a>.  So much.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The path from Bestine shot south, flechette straight. Leaving mid-morning meant a bit of traffic along the thoroughfare that cleared the city. As they neared the open desert, paths dividing and diverging to other Tatooinian cities and settlements, all signs of life died down. Dunes loomed large before them, an endless stretch of rolling sand under the punishing suns. </p><p>It'd be a three hour trip, longer than the one from the Wastes to Bestine. The map showed flat land between two canyons, but all Mara could see was miles of desert all around them. </p><p>She and El didn’t talk much, but that weird bruised feeling she’d had since the morning faded, leaving her confused more than anything, surprised that El would simply push her arguments aside-- especially after last night, when he <i>hadn't</i> wanted her company. It didn't make sense, but he was here, and she was here, her arms wrapped around his waist, the sun making the view before her hazy even through her helmet’s display. </p><p>Mara still didn't know why he'd wanted to be by himself. Maybe it was only the weight of how his life was soon to change. Hadn't the prospect of advancing at times seemed as daunting as it'd been exciting? Couldn't it be the same for El?</p><p>Lost in thought, Mara barely noted the slight shimmer before them until it became more than a shimmer. The heat had created this impression before when they'd crossed the desert, but not to this degree. It was as if...a dune was rolled towards them, a rippling sandy wave, the blaze of the two suns reflecting off its surface. For a few minutes Mara took it as an optical illusion, but it didn’t vanish. Only came closer.</p><p>"You see that shine?" she called on the helmet's comm. Just then, the movement stopped. The back of her neck tingled. There was something in the sand--</p><p>An explosion sent sand and gravel flying just ahead, and El swerved sharply, barely avoiding <i>something</i>, an enormous shadow that blocked out the two suns. A sudden impact sent Mara careening into weightlessness. A bitten off, "El!" rushed out of her mouth. he was falling. Another impact knocked the wind out of her and made the world spin. </p><p>Mara summoned enough of the Force for a somewhat controlled roll to go with the momentum, the heat of the sand scalding, even through the protective cover of the flightsuit.</p><p>When she came up, barren desert greeted her, the panorama bright and deathly still. Mara summoned the Force to clear her head. </p><p>"El!" She screamed into her comm, scanning around the empty landscape. What the kriff had that been?</p><p>No answer on the comm. She couldn't have fallen that far.</p><p>"El!" she called again.</p><p> No sign of him or the bike. Where was he? </p><p>Holdout in hand, she repeated his name, her voice a frantic echo inside her helmet. Still no reply. Why wasn't he answering? She could feel her pulse at the back of her throat. The helmet felt too tight, she could hardly breathe. The lights of the HUD swam in her vision.</p><p>Mara breathed in and tapped the side of her helmet to activate the display. She shook off the disorientation, swallowed against the way her mouth felt dry and gritty.</p><p>No connection. The nav icon blared red.</p><p>The fall, she thought. Could be damaged. "Kriff." </p><p>Mara went through a quick diagnostic. Nothing. Finally she couldn't take it anymore. She yanked the helmet off.</p><p>"El!" The glare of the suns made her squint, the air scorching in her lungs. A mass of dunes extended all around her as she turned.</p><p>"El!" The cry dissipated as soon as it left her lips, swallowed up by the wide space. She breathed in again over the powerhammer in her chest. No variation in the landscape caught her eye, just sand as far as the eye could see. Unending and bare. Desolate. </p><p>She took another deep breath, tamping over a creeping panic. Geolocation would work. It was built for situations like this. Mara put the helmet back on. Nav might have issues, but if she could bring geoloc back up... She tapped the side of the helmet to go through her options. There. The HUD showed her location on the map, then lit up another section a few meters over. </p><p>The bike. El.</p><p>Mara set towards it, calling his name again once the map showed she was close. She took the helmet off, raising her voice.</p><p>"Arica!" The cry was weak, barely audible. Her feet plodded through the sand, up a dune, then another until she saw El beside the fallen bike. </p><p>She darted towards him. Her neck tingled and she stopped in time to raise her arm against another explosion from the ground, the falling sand and dust making her lose sight of him. For a split second, she imagined seeing the huge outline of something in the wall of grit around them. Was it … <i>long</i>?  She wasn't sure.</p><p>"El!"  The shout was cut short by Mara having to cough up sand lodged in her throat. Her hands were empty. She must have lost her helmet in the explosion. "El!"</p><p>For an interminable moment all she heard was absolute silence.</p><p>"El!"</p><p>She listened in that eerie silence, about to call again when she heard a small groan. It seemed to come from her left. "Arica?" His voice was weak, but it allowed her to narrow down the direction </p><p>"You ok?" she called out.</p><p>"Kind of," his reply sounded like he’d said it between clenched teeth. He came into view sprawled close to the bike, not getting up. Mara broke into a run.</p><p>"Details," she ordered, falling to her knees by him. After peeling off her gloves, she felt for his pulse. He looked too pale.</p><p>“I’m f--”</p><p>"What was --" Mara sucked in a breath at the high clicking sound that seemed to come out of nowhere. She turned, automatically hitting her holdout release. The weapon spat plasma as she jumped away from El, sprinting. When she looked over her shoulder, a mammoth outline quickly took on the shape of a...caterpillar? The creature reared up on itself. Mara saw the shot glance off its body when she shot again. Another shot ricocheted off, and another. She concentrated on her running, eyes scanning forward. </p><p>No cover in sight. She squeezed off another shot.</p><p>"Stop firing!" came El's shout.</p><p>Startled, Mara stopped just as a pop exploded in the distance. Sounded like a flare. She turned to see the enormous insect-like creature twist its body towards the noise. It dove down into the sand. A split second later, it was gone.</p><p>Mara stayed where she was, her heartbeat slamming in her skull, breathing hard as she looked around her. Finally, she thought it safe enough to jog back to where El was. </p><p>"Good thinking with the flare", Mara panted. He'd managed to sit up -- the flare thrower was next to him among other scattered supplies, his helmet a few feet away. “What was that thing?” </p><p>"I don't know," he half groaned. "Sand demon? I couldn’t see. And,” his face contorted into a pained grimace, “they're--not--not real. Aric--” He ground his teeth together on the last syllable. ”The--the bike, it landed on my leg -- think it's broken."</p><p>"Broken," she echoed, squinting at the distance. Was the creature gone? How likely was it that one flare shot had scared it off for good? She snapped her head back to El who was breathing shallowly. Mara couldn’t take that into account too right now. One thing at a time.</p><p>Getting El patched up was first. Then figure out the bike.  </p><p>She darted towards his leg, half obscured by the tail of the bike. It wasn't fully on him, thankfully. Or rather, she tamped on a wince, it wasn't on him anymore. </p><p>"How...is it?"</p><p>"Wait." Mara shifted a bit of the tail away and started inspecting the leg beneath his torn riding suit and went cold, even more so when she got a better look at the wound. The flesh beneath his ripped clothing was blood-soaked, but that wasn’t the end of it. Some of it tinged yellow. Bone marrow. Flash of white.</p><p>"Well?"

</p><p>Kriff. Her stomach turned over. How was he managing to make sense, let alone use the flare thrower?</p><p>"Don't move," she told him. Kriff, an open fracture. In the desert. In the open air and with minimal supplies. Mara dove towards one of the scattered bags. Not that one. Scanning, she recognized the one with the medkit a few steps away and shot towards it.</p><p>His wound was too serious, a voice in her mind whispered. What he needed was a med center.</p><p>Mara took a breath and centered herself. Standard protocol. Stop the bleeding. Clean the wound. Cover it up. Kriff. She yanked out the medkit. Part of the bone had gone through his shin. How was she going to clean that, let alone--</p><p>"Arica?"</p><p>"It's broken," she said tersely as she rummaged through the smaller bags of supplies. Start with getting treated water for cleaning. Stop the bleeding. A local anesthetic if she could find one. Then tape up the break. Immobilize the bone in two sections. "Hang in there. I'm gonna deal with this first, then we're going to get help."</p><p>"The front repulsor's shot," he gasped. "Can't take our weight -- combined weight. And that thing. But yours... You should be ok."</p><p>She ignored him, focused on loading the atomizer with the solution.</p><p>The ground rumbled. Kriff. Mara raised her head. In the distance she could see rolling dunes, just like before. Not even that far. </p><p>"Arica," El’s voice had become very even. "You need to get out of here. That thing's coming back."</p><p>Her holdout had proven no good, but Mara still had her blaster rifle in her weapons pack. They’d disassembled the rifles for easier transport. She’d have to reassemble it. Quick. But the wound...Frustration bit at her. </p><p>"Arica, I-” El broke off with a scream.</p><p>"I don't have a lot of time." The tourniquet was beyond shoddy. No choice. It would have to do until she had more time.</p><p>El took a sharp, wheezing breath. “I-I don't know what that thing--"</p><p>But Mara was already bolting to her weapons pack, and yanking out the rifle case. Stopping the bleeding would mean nothing if they were about to be eaten alive.</p><p>"A-rica --you have to run!"</p><p>She just needed to reassemble the rifle. Give that thing a reason to stay away.</p><p>"It's coming back. You can't stay here!"</p><p>Thirty seconds. She’d done it a couple of times at the hut. Done it blindfolded after being woken up past midnight during training. </p><p>"Arica!"</p><p>Mara glanced up at the dunes, rising and falling like waves. Go.</p><p>"Arica!"</p><p>Press bolt into upper receiver. <i>Click</i>. Connect upper and lower receivers with pins. <i>Click. Click</i>.  Screw on muzzle. <i>Click</i>. Push power pack in. <i>Click</i>. Dial to maximum power. Fifteen seconds to charge. Was she far enough from El? She turned her head only a few yards. He was still shouting.</p><p>Not as much distance as she liked. It would have to do for now. She settled her sights on the dunes. That creature had to come up again. When it did the spray of sand couldn't interfere with her aim. She wished she still had her helmet.</p><p>Eleven seconds.</p><p>The body was probably not a good place to target, even if her rifle had much more power than her holdout. Movement at the corner of her eye jarred her. </p><p>Eight seconds. </p><p>"Fucking stay still!" she roared at El without taking her eye from her target area, "Your tibia's half out of your leg! Shut up and let me work or we'll both die!"</p><p>Four seconds. </p><p>He spat out a curse in Huttese. "The bike can handle your weight! Go, now!"</p><p>Two seconds.</p><p>"You don't have to do this! You're risking your life. Your boss-- You'll let him down for nothing! Arica, please!"</p><p>The laser blaster beeped. Fully charged. </p><p>"Arica!"</p><p>Sand exploded outward where the creature surfaced. She aimed for the space between the mandibles. El's scream made her flinch, but she fired. The recoil hit her cheekbone, a stab of pain. She'd misaligned. </p><p>Shifting a little, she tried again. Another hit, though she couldn't see how much damage the shot had caused. The creature vanished down into the sand. </p><p>Mara waited a few seconds. El had grown silent. Had he passed out? She didn't dare take her eyes off the rifle's sights. She couldn't tell once she'd glanced his way. Carefully, she made her way back to El. Still conscious, clearly unhappy.</p><p>“You know what that thing is?” she whispered not giving him a chance to speak. </p><p>"N-no and I... don't think it's gone," he said shakily. No, the tingle at the back of her neck had died down but it wasn't gone. The shot had been a deterrent, sure, but Mara had a feeling it was temporary. The creature’s reaction indicated <i>some</i> damage.</p><p>"If a blaster rifle shot won’t scare it off for good, we need more bang.” But they didn't have more. Mara looked out into the desert, squinting again. The coarse rub of sand seemed to be everywhere: between her fingers, in the corners of her eyes and her mouth. “It could have kept attacking earlier.” Her holdout hadn’t exactly done much.</p><p>“It’s not...not,” El’s speech was slurred. Clearly, it cost him great effort to form words, Mara was about to tell him to save his strength, but he clung on, “a sand demon, but looks--looks insectoid. Maybe can’t--see.” </p><p>True, some underground insectoid species couldn't. Was it drawn to their voices then or the sound of blasters or the bike? Not the bike. It had approached after the repulsors had been cut. Vibrations from movement? It'd gone for <i>her</i>, not El. She scanned around them warily. She shouldn't even be near him, if was tracking movement. But if it wasn't and she was too far away...</p><p>"The gas tank,” El continued with difficulty. “If it returns. Light it up."</p><p>Could work but, "I can't throw it far enough. The explosion would get us too. It’s too heavy. I could drain some fuel, but it’d take too much time."</p><p>Mara lifted her gaze again. She couldn’t make out any movement. Not yet anyway. </p><p>"The--the spatalytic converter,” El gritted out. “Smaller. Should fit in -- the thrower."</p><p>With a grunt, Mara slung the rifle over her shoulder to go and search through the scattered bags for her tools. Once she’d found them, she ran back to the tail of the bike.</p><p>If they were quiet perhaps it’d get bored and go away. But she needed to deal with El's wound <i>now</i>, she thought, hurrying for the tools to unbolt the gas tank. Mara dove for the flare thrower beside El once the part was in her hands. She examined the thrower, it had a trigger activated sling mechanism. El had been right; the converter was the right shape. It clipped in when she shoved it into the thrower’s sling. </p><p>Mara glanced at El. He looked worse, his face already a painful-looking red. After she dealt with the wound, she needed to shield him from the unforgiving suns somehow, get their shelter up. Again she stared out to the desert. Waiting and hoping for that thing to go away wasn’t an option. She needed to deal with El’s wound now. Stop the bleeding. See if she could splint it...</p><p>First, she needed to <i>make</i> the creature go away.</p><p>El gave her a frail smile. "You can...still run."</p><p>"Can't," she turned away, grabbing her rifle from over her shoulder, "Bike's missing a spat."</p><p>He made a noise that may have been a laugh as she scanned through her sights. </p><p>A wave of sand shot out, pelting her. Close. Too close. She fired point blank and threw herself back. Distance -- she needed that thing far away from El. Mara jumped up, launching herself into a run <i>towards</i> the thing but at an angle, so El would be out of the firing line.</p><p>The creature slid back. Mara slung the thrower up and dropped to the ground to aim with her rifle. The chaotic cloud of sand raised by the thing ruined her visibility, so she had to work with a rough estimate. A glint of something, even through the cloudiness. There. She pulled the trigger and threw herself face down. A wailing screech, sharp and new, filled the air as a flash of heat seared through her back. She rolled over, her nostrils filling with the smell of burnt clothes and her ears ringing as she became aware of an erratic succession of  thunks that reverberated from the ground into her body, growing dimmer and dimmer until they were finally gone.</p><p>Mara lifted her head. Tendrils of smoke were all around her, but the haze of sand had settled. When she found she could get up, she rushed back to El.</p><p>"I can’t -- hear it," he whispered. His eyes were murky but once they set on her, they cleared up. "I think--” </p><p>The prickling at her neck had vanished. She reached further with the Force. “It’s gone.”</p><p>El passed her a skeptical look. “You ok? The suit's got smo--"</p><p>"I'm all right."</p><p>El seemed as good as he could be, given everything. Mara shoved a water bottle at him and grabbed the first aid supplies. </p><p>"I did a shavit job with the wrap. I'm going to have to do it again,” she announced. After a moment she added, “Sorry."</p><p>El gave her another wavery smile. "You saved my life."</p><p>Mara couldn’t help the broken laugh that escaped her. She took a quick swig of her water. “Thank me later. We're not out of this yet. After I get you sorted out. I'll see who we can hail via comm."</p><p>"We’re a little far out," he took a swig, “Feeder’s Tail is--”</p><p>"I saw some speeders pass us," she muttered, her stomach turning over as she went back to the wound and delicately undoing the wreck of a wrap she'd made. Stars, that was nasty. “I’m going to start with something for the pain.” Part of the bike was still blocking his view. “Low dose, so you’ll stay conscious, just to take the worst of the pain away.”</p><p>"Any flare--” He broke off with a scream as she jammed the hypo into his flesh. Same Huttese as before, she guessed, though the scream made it hard to tell.  “A--rica,” he gasped. “Maybe warn-- next time?”</p><p>“I did,” she said without looking up from where she was bandaging.</p><p>“It’s a...bad break?” </p><p>She grunted noncommittally. He might have thought she’d been exaggerating before. “What were you saying about flares?”</p><p>"Could use 'em...past twilight if anyone's near. Worth...a shot."</p><p>"Okay," she told him, filing the suggestion away for later.</p><p>After Mara was done with the accessible part of the wound, she briefly eyed the part of the bike obstructing the rest of it. No other option. She’d have to push it off. At least it was no longer on him, she reminded herself. It might not look so bad now that it was mostly bandaged. </p><p>"I’m going to get this off,” she announced. “I recommend you look away." </p><p>She pushed off the tail, tamping on her urge to hiss as the gruesomeness of the wound became fully exposed. El’s slightly greenish expression told her he'd ignored her advice.</p><p>“I told you not to look,” she hissed at him, grabbing another set of bandages.</p><p>--</p><p>El took the wound cleaning in stride. Mara would have prefered yelling and screaming to the pained whimpers that snuck out of him as she worked as quickly and carefully as she could, ignoring the stifling midday heat. She’d donned her headscarf and given him his, but it felt like no protection at all.</p><p>Afterwards they'd managed to get him off the ground and onto the bottom part of the portable shelter in their supplies, an operation that <i>had</i> involved more crying out than she had ever wanted to hear from him. She would have preferred for him to pass out.</p><p>But what she would have truly wanted was for them not to be here, for El not to be this hurt. She wanted better medical equipment, wanted more than her rudimentary first aid knowledge, wanted to give him more assurance than the mantra of "I'll be done soon" she kept repeating.</p><p>“If I don’t make it,”Tannis had said, wincing from his burn wounds, “bury me in space.”</p><p>She hated thinking of Tannis now but her mind kept looping back to that day now that she’d done as much as she could for El’s wound. She’d honored his wish and had buried Tannis in space. Not knowing what to say, she’d recited the words to a song she’d heard once, banal to the extreme.</p><p><i>We are but a collection of memories across time and space.</i> </p><p>Pathetic. But it'd been all she’d had. Neither her master nor her tutors had ever taught her to commemorate the dead. Behind closed doors, her master had no patience for any excessive sentiment, especially not  for a <i>pirate</i>. The dead feel nothing, he'd told her.</p><p>Looking at El, prone and breathing shallowly, his face streaming with sweat, made her stomach twist. The suns were baking above them, and Mara busied herself with setting up the shelter for them, pausing to give water to El or take a drink herself. They could make it until twilight with what they had. Past that she couldn’t think. She wouldn't.</p><p>As she worked, she would try a call on the comm. Occasionally she heard random snippets of conversations as if from far away, but no one answered her call. </p><p>“Should save it for yourself,” El whispered, his lips cracked, when she handed him the next bottle. The shelter was up above them and Mara had sat down to rest. “You’re losing body moisture.”</p><p>Wierd phrasing. Probably a Tatooine thing. She smiled a little. “We both are. I’ll be fine once the suns go down. And we have enough." She looked across the bleak panorama. "We took a transited route." It was true. The comm hadn't been completely silent. Things weren't what they seemed here. "People probably are staying away because of the report of the sandstorm.” They might not be likely to travel at night, but she didn't say that.</p><p>El nodded, probably to appease her. He would know. Better than her. </p><p>“Hey,” he said quietly, sliding his hand over hers. “We'll be ok.”</p><p>He'd need a medcenter for a proper cleaning of the wound, not to mention surgery, but the Motesta Oasis wouldn't be likely to have one. Maybe Mos Eisley, but that was even more southwards. But she pulled her hand from under his to pat the back of his hand, eyes fixed straight ahead. </p><p>“It <i>is</i> a transited route,” El pushed out. “Use the flares. Someone will see. Even sandcrawlers would stop.”</p><p>Mara nodded grimmly. No doubt hoping they could scavenge through bodies. She dug around in her medkit for painkillers. “This is stronger,” she started.</p><p>El shook his head and she stopped. “No.”</p><p>“Why? There's no reason not to,” she challenged. His eyes were hazy with pain. “Give yourself a break, El. You've dealt with enough.”</p><p>“Rather not be...out when things happen.”</p><p>It was on the tip of her tongue to ask <i>what things</i>. It wasn't like he'd be any help, but even in his state, she recognized the stubborn jut of his chin and thought better about insisting. Energy, like water, was at a premium. Mara looked at her chrono. </p><p>Six hours to go, she should go try the comm again.</p><p>--</p><p>El made it through three more hours before he fell asleep. It was just as well. She rummaged through her bag, no flare. Undaunted, she fell into a search until she located one amid their scattered supplies.</p><p>Mara ran her finger over the flare thrower in the waning light. Even if someone came, that was hardly safe. Asking for help opened you up to the mercy of strangers, and their motives might not be altruistic. There was a chance, she thought as the shadows lengthened, that someone might find she and El vulnerable, might want to steal from them. It could be Tuskens too, thinking them easy prey. Her eye lingered on the rifle she'd dropped. </p><p>Mara idly took it apart. She shoved the parts into the case and the case into her weapons bag. That done, she brought the bag near the shelter. She went through the others and brought them back. Sitting back she dug around one of them for a hand mirror, the small light at the top sending shadows scurrying from her face.</p><p>A heavily sunburnt face greeted her, her hair stringy and darkened with sweat and grit. No precautions could completely eliminate the violent blaze of the two suns. Mara lifted the mirror higher. The area around her cheekbone was visibly swollen. A few hours and she'd have a black eye. She looked like the victim of a bad wreck. She glanced over at the fallen bike a few feet away. Like easy prey.</p><p>Mara rechecked her holdout, made sure it was well-concealed under her flightsuit. Anyone with ill intent would be in for a very unpleasant surprise. Mara looked to the horizon It wouldn't be long. Tatoo I had already sunk into the horizon. She closed the mirror and shoved it back into the bag, double checking that she had all her essentials. That done, she checked El’s bag to make sure he had the credit chip still. </p><p>She’d been right, there wasn’t much in his bag, only clothing, his datapad, a few tools he’d taken from the hut...and the journal. Mara shook her head, huffing. He should have left it behind.</p><p>El had a small pouch of credits, but the chip wasn’t in there. Mara patted herself and brought up a small glowrod from her flightsuit, scanning further. Had it fallen out? Her heart sank as she went through the empty bag. Had he kept it on himself? That had to be it. She’d ask him later, she decided as she slid everything back into the bag. Her eyes fell on the journal. Carrying something like this around wasn’t safe. She’d be doing him a favor leaving it behind.  </p><p>Mara picked the journal up with a frown, memories of last night making her stop. She should leave it, but the thought of him finding out gave her a weird feeling. If he’d brought the journal, he’d be upset for sure. </p><p>Then again, she could tell him it had fallen out and gotten lost. He would never know. It would be for the best. For his own safety. She ran her finger over the thumb lock. He’d rigged it back.</p><p>El had so few possessions, the thought surfaced.  At the end of the day, this was just junk, but he’d <i>chosen</i> to take it with him.</p><p>Mara shoved the journal back into his bag. Later when they were out of this, she’d convince him to leave it. Closing the bag, she stood, turning off the glowrod. Darkness fell and she scanned the horizon once more.</p><p>Tatoo II had gone down, too. </p><p>Grabbing the flare and the thrower, Mara took a few steps further away from where she’d set them up and loaded the thrower. Hopefully El wouldn’t wake up. She pulled the trigger and up went the flare with a loud pop. The flare turned the sky from midnight blue to bright orange for a full five minutes before dissolving into a pinkish smoke. It was anticlimactic. Now all that was left to do was more waiting. </p><p>Mara turned around and went to sit next to El under the shelter, he'd barely stirred for which she was thankful. She kept her senses trained on their surroundings. Someone had to have seen the flare or heard her call.</p><p>Had to.</p>
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<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Chapter 19</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>More thank yous to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangeallure/pseuds/strangeallure">strangeallure</a> whose help I can't take for granted in the current hellscape that is this year.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“...one-one-four, two-four-three, three-zero-two. Repeat. This is Nightscreamer model 88-R requesting assistance.”</p><p>Static. </p><p>“Our coordinates are one-one-four, two-four-three, three-zero-two. Repeat. This is Nightscreamer model 88-R requesting assistance. We've been in a-- a crash, sustained injuries.” Mara tightened her grip on the blanket around her, waiting.</p><p>Static. </p><p>She let a few more seconds tick by. </p><p>Nothing.</p><p>She lowered the comm's volume, clipped it to her belt and went inside the shelter she’d set up, knowing that the emergency channel would simply loop her call for several minutes. At least El was still sleeping, his head turned away from the small glowrod light she'd set up. Dropping the blanket as she sat, she pressed her hands together, squashing the impulse to take his vitals again. He'd been doing fine the last two times she'd checked.</p><p>His chapped lips were moving, she noticed and she drew close. Even with pressing her ear close by his mouth, his voice was too low for her to make out his words fully. <i>No</i>, it seemed, and <i>please</i>. </p><p>Mara sat back. Nightmare? He'd been nightmare-free since the hut. Was it normal to be having one <i>now</i>? Like this? An icy chill lodged itself in her spine. She tasted it in her mouth, stomach lurching as she tried to rub the sand scratching at her face and eyes. Or could it indicate another injury? He <i>had</i> fallen and she'd found him without his helmet. She should have asked him about it. Maybe she’d missed something,and the blow--</p><p>Mara stood up, the air inside the shelter suddenly oppressive, the smell of blood too thick. She stumbled outside, focusing on the comm in her hand. Check that it was on the emergency channel. Set volume to max.
</p><p>"This is Nightscreamer model 88-R re-requesting assistance. we've been in a crash. Have injuries. Our coordinates…"</p><p>Mara checked her chrono. A little over to three hours without a response. She raised her head. Night had fallen entirely, the sky above pinpricked by starlight. Deathly stillness.</p><p>Unbidden, her mind replayed the last time she'd been outside at night. The quiet of the desert had been marred by an occasional animal call then. Might as well have been ages ago. </p><p>She'd forgotten how quickly things could change.</p><p>When she went back inside the shelter, El had stopped mumbling and was utterly still. Mara dropped beside him, wrung her hands in her lap, sand rough between her fingers, the smell of copper cloying around her until she had to dart back out, comm in hand.</p><p>"This is Nightscreamer model 88-R…"</p><p>Static. </p><p>They didn't have enough water to make it to tomorrow. Her head had started to throb. Mara rubbed at her temples. </p><p>Above, the countless stars and the two moons shone down mocking light. No one will help you, she could almost hear them say.  </p><p>She hated this planet. Hated the thought that it could kill her. </p><p>Kill El.</p><p>Mara put the comm away and rubbed at her arms. Her stomach rumbled loudly. She should have made El eat a ration bar,  should have had one herself. Neither of them had eaten since breakfast. Another stupid mistake on her part.
</p><p>She trudged back into the shelter to check on El, grabbed a ration bar from her bag and forced it down. Every bite seemed on the verge of sticking in her throat, but she couldn’t bring herself to take another sip of their rapidly depleting water supplies. El had started mumbling again. 
</p><p>There had to be something else she could do should no one come. Something she hadn't thought off yet. The bike? She wouldn’t be able to take it far without the spatalytic converter, even if the repulsor hadn’t been shot. She couldn’t move El. Not like this.</p><p>Mara gingerly reached for El’s forehead, cool and clammy to the touch. She took his vitals again, knowing that they wouldn't tell her anything until it was already too late.</p><p>Infection was a risk. She sat back, clasping her hands together, and squeezing her eyes shut. Everything was a blasted risk. There had to be something, something she hadn't yet thought of...</p><p>Mara bent forward, fingers fumbling for the comm, and froze. Something in the distance trickled through her awareness. A staccato sound rang out not long after. </p><p>Repulsors. Growing louder. </p><p>She bolted out of the shelter to see lights dispersing the gloom. Vehicle lights. Mara lifted her arms without thinking.</p><p>"Over here!" </p><p>As it neared, the vehicle revealed the form of a civilian speeder truck. Much larger than the XP she and El had rented at Mos Espa -- and with a magnetic animal transport behind it. The landspeeder came to a stop a few meters from her. A tall, heavy-set figure got out, darkened outline thick as it crossed in front of the speeder’s lights. 
</p><p>No sense of alarm prickled in Mara's awareness, nothing stopped her from running towards them.“Here!” </p><p>“Hello?” Masculine voice. Mustached and middle-aged, clad in the same kind of tunics she'd seen at Pika. Human."Are you o--"</p><p>"We need help! Had an accident. Crash.” Her words had an alien panicky cadence to them. “My...friend--he has an open fracture on his left leg. He needs a medcenter as soon as possible."</p><p>“I heard your call, but my comm couldn’t do more than triangulate your location. There's no medcenter near here. Mos Eisley's the closest thing, but that's hours away and it’s past curfew. He over there?" The man gestured to the shelter.</p><p>Curfew? Oh. Her clearance would take care of it. "How many ho-"</p><p>"I can offer you a place for the night," the man replied briskly with her at his heels. "My ranch isn't too far. And in the morning we can get you to Mos Eisley."</p><p>Stop for the night? No. Mara clenched her jaw. "We can’t. The wound--"</p><p>"It’s too dangerous to be out at this time of night," he said as they ducked inside the shelter. "The sooner we get you both out of the desert, the better."</p><p>Mara pressed her lips together. She had no leverage here. Getting out of the desert <i>was</i> the priority. "Thank you."  </p><p>The man turned his attention to El on the synth tarp, the feeble glowrod light illuminating the blood-darkened bandaging. Her stomach did a flip at the man’s expression, and hadn't seen the worst of it under the cover.</p><p>“He’s…” for a split second, she lost her words. Then she was plucking them from the air and forcing them out, “not well. I dressed the wound, best as I could. It didn’t pierce an artery. Not as far as I can see, but I’m no medic. It did pierce his skin --” she pointed to part of the bandaging, “there. I--I don’t know how deep exactly. Just wanted to get it covered up quick. It needs cleaning and surgical intervention to reset the bone and for--for the wound. I think it’s probably a low-to moderate velocity wound but--"
</p><p>The man’s hand dropped to her shoulder, and Mara let out a hiss before she could help it.</p><p>He quickly drew it away, concerned. "Oh, I'm sorry. You're hurt--"</p><p>She shook her head firmly. "No, no, it's nothing, just a mild burn. But my friend--"</p><p> “It’ll be all right, Miss. I’m sure they’ll be able to take care of your friend at Mos Eisley. Probably see this all the time.”</p><p>Mara turned her head sharply at his even tone. Couldn’t he <i>see</i>? Did he think she was exaggerating?</p><p>“Yes,” she made herself murmur, “They’ll know what to do.” </p><p>“For now,” the man continued, “we’re going to have to be careful about moving him.”</p><p>“Arica,” El’s cracked voice rang out. “Who--”</p><p>He was up? She dropped to a crouch and grabbed a nearby bottle of water. “You should drink something.” Had the pain woken him? She set it by him and reached to help him sit up. “How do you feel?” </p><p>The painkillers were in her bag, but she focused on El as he brought the bottle to his lips with a grimace. He didn’t answer, his eyes wandering to the man. </p><p>“This is…” Mara looked up at their would-be rescuer.</p><p>“Weston Sarloo,” he said. “I have a place out west not too far. You’re in a bad way now, but you’ll be all right, son. Drink for now.” Turning to Mara, he continued, “I have a fold up stretcher in the back.”</p><p>She nodded while El gave his thanks, his expression not quite as alert, his breaths a bit sharp, all confirmation that the anesthetic had worn off. Once Sarloo had left, Mara went to the glowrod, clicked it on the highest setting, and yanked her medkit over back to where she'd sat beside El.</p><p>“The kriffing dose was too low,” she muttered, looking for a stronger analgesic. “I knew it would be.” She looked at the Aurebesh of another hypo, stimulant, she shoved it aside. “Kriff.” There were others antiseptics, mood stabilizers, hypnotics, and a bevy of other medications, none of which she needed right now. “And this one is too much --” </p><p>“We’ll...be okay,” El whispered, the words pressured.</p><p>Like it took effort to speak, and Mara bit her lip as she continued searching through her medkit. “Of course we will. I just need to find that damn hypo. I know it’s here, probably at the bottom, the one time I need it--”</p><p>She felt his hand slide over her wrist. “Don’t be so...scared.”</p><p>Mara forced out a scoff and glanced up. Underneath all that desert grime and with the beginnings of a blistering sunburn on top of everything else, he was smiling at her, lopsided, a bit frayed at the edges but real.  
</p><p>She went back to her bag, ignoring a terrible sinking feeling in her stomach, the unequivocal knowledge that he shouldn't be here at all. “I’m not.” She gave his hand a pat before resuming looking through her medkit. “Got it.”</p><p>Mara looked up with the hypo in hand, sliding an arm around his shoulders. “This’ll make transport much easer on you. It’s a sedative, should wear off in four hours, give or take.”
</p><p>El shook his head. “No, I --”</p><p>But she was already jamming the hypo into his neck. His eyes rolled back into his head and she took his weight as he went slack, lowering him to a fully reclined position in time for Sarloo’s return. </p><p>--</p><p>The transport dipped suddenly again, taking Mara's stomach with it, the primitive crash webbing digging into her shoulders. She bit down against the pain, hands tightening against the water bottle Sarloo had pressed into her hands.</p><p>Her burns weren’t serious, she’d determined, after she and Sarloo had taken care of El. The bacta salve in her medkit had helped, but the violent jolts against the webbing where her skin was tender felt like vibroknives all the same.</p><p>It wasn't intolerable. Mara sipped from her bottle, ignoring the pungent animal smell of their surroundings mixed with the everpresent reek of blood. That bothered her more. The transport rose up then jerked down, snapping her against the crash webbing again. She winced as her stomach did yet another somersault, regretting her sip.</p><p>Sarloo, obviously experienced, had wrapped up El with the same ties he used on his livestock, and fixed up a sort of containment field about him that Mara wasn’t familiar with. All that meant that movement wouldn't affect him, Sarloo had assured her.</p><p>“This is strong enough to hold an adult dewback." he’d told her after he’d strapped El in and activated the field. "That, the straps, and the sedation mean your friend will have a smooth ride of it. Sure you wouldn’t rather be up front? Shouldn’t be more than an hour. He'll have a better ride than you will if you stay here.”</p><p>But he hadn’t seemed all that surprised when she’d shaken her head, and they’d gotten the bike strapped down as well. It was in another containment field just beside Mara.  At Mos Eisley she'd find someone to fix it and take it back to Pika. </p><p>She had to make it there first.</p><p>They were out of the desert, Mara told herself, forcing down another sip. Sarloo seemed genuine, nothing about him flagging. That meant something. A lot.</p><p>A med center was still a whole night away.</p><p>
From where she sat, the emergency cover on El’s shin was clearly visible by the transport's hanging glowrod, dark with blood. Mara looked down at her hands, the red smears on them had long dried into a rusty brown. No wonder the smell of it had been like a foul cloud on her all evening. She felt the urge to pour out some water and try to get the worst off. </p><p>But that would be stupid. She was dehydrated and had to replenish. Mara forced down another sip, raising her eyes back to El. There was no way she had gotten the wound clean enough. El needed surgical intervention. She needed to procure that for him. Somehow. </p><p>Tannis had made it for maybe five hours with severe burns thanks to the cocktail of stimulants she'd stuck in him. She'd been so sure that the medical capsule would help after. Back at Coruscant, they'd told her the stimulants provoked an excessive reaction in his limbic system. It'd been a good decision regardless, the post-op eval stressed. She couldn't have made it off planet without him, so it’d been good she'd kept him alive long enough to save herself.</p><p>Bury me in space, he'd said, and she had. </p><p>She never included that in her report.  </p><p>El's wound was different from Tannis'. There was no comparison. And Tannis had been a common pirate, helping her because she'd <i>made</i> him help her.</p><p>She couldn't wait to get El help. She couldn’t. </p><p>Mara focused on where El's chest was rising evenly in artificial rest. All of the medication she carried was useless. She was out of her depth. Nothing she could do would help. Only medical intervention. The wound was likely growing more serious by the minute.</p><p>An interminable ride later, she felt the transport come to a stop. The rusted metal creaked as Sarloo opened the permalum doors. As she jumped out, Mara spied a scattered collection of about five small domes and the spires of a dozen or so vaporators dotting the landscape. The forms were half in shadow from the light that came from a security perimeter a good three or four yards away past where Sarloo had stopped the landspeeder truck. She'd expected a garage.</p><p>Three figures rushed towards them. Humanoid, bulbous heads clad in similar tunics as Sarloo. Biths. </p><p>"You said you needed help, boss? Everything ok?" one of them asked.</p><p>"Yeah," Sarloo told them. "Found this young lady and her friend enroute to Motesta, bike accident. Name's Arica Jannisih." To Mara, he said, "These are our hired hands Marin, Caj and Sev. We have some guest lodgings--"</p><p>"Anything is fine," Mara muttered watching as the Biths deactivated the containment field then worked on the complicated strapping, their motions even faster than Sarloo's had been. Mara gathered part of their bags. The third Bith grabbed the rest of them behind her. "You usually leave your vehicle here?"</p><p>"Oh, no," Sarloo replied. "I'll move it into the sublevel garage later. This is the shortest path to the guest quarters."</p><p>His property must be considerable then, Mara assumed, giving the area around her another scan. Her eye stopped where the Biths were carrying El on the stretcher meant for something much larger, his form looking small and very still.</p><p>"The wound," she blurted out. "I--"</p><p>"He'll get help," Sarloo assured her. "We'll pack up your bike after we set you up for the night. At first sunup, Either Marin or Sev," he gestured to the Biths, "can fly you to Mos Eisley."</p><p>Mara bit her lip. That was hours from now and every hour that passed brought more risks. Risk of infection. Risk of a more complex intervention. Loss of limb. Permanent damage. Did Sarloo know? Or was some kind of Tatooinian fatalism at play? 
</p><p>“We move them inside for the night,” he explained casually, as if this were an informational tour, and she realized she was staring sightlessly at some empty animal pens that had come into view behind the first couple of domes. “You’re not from here, are you?”</p><p>She shook her head. “I’m--” her mind fumbled for anything, “I’m --”</p><p>Sarloo tilted his head at her. “Nurse? That was some medkit you had there. Never seen so many types of burn ointment before.”</p><p>Mara nodded and the story fell into place. “I just started my apprenticeship for INS.”</p><p>“Imperial--”</p><p>“Nursing Service. A wing of the medcorp. We do a two year apprenticeship out of the Core. I’m based over at Bestine’s Imperial garrison.”</p><p>“Ah. The fort.” He made an acknowledging sound.  </p><p>As they passed through the livery, Mara tried once more, "There's no one, no medic nearby? My friend, he told me he was familiar with the area, and if I had known--"</p><p>“He may know these parts, but you can live a million years here and the desert can still get you. It can always get you. It’s not something you can predict,” he said gently. “Don’t take it on yourself, Miss.”  </p><p>She glanced back to where the Biths were moving El. “He’s very hurt. I can’t -- I can’t help him.”</p><p>"No." Sarloo’s tone was too bright for the sharp feeling ripping up her insides. “But Mos Eisley Med'll have everything you need. Your friend'll be fine. People pull out of worse here all the time, believe me."</p><p>But he didn’t know that. Easy for <i>him</i> to say.</p><p>Tannis had asked her to bury him in space. She had.</p><p>Mara bit the inside of her cheek. She followed Sarloo and the Biths inside one of the domes and into a wide turbolift that brought them to a reception area.  Sarloo entered numbers into a keypad and the doors opened, revealing a small room with a dark red rug that covered most of the floor. The bed was narrow and a few paces from it was a kitchenette with a small pulse oven above a conservator that reached to her waist. </p><p>“These are our guest quarters. The ‘fresher is past that through there,” Sarloo told her, gesturing past the kitchen as the Biths began the process of undoing the ties and sliding El onto the bed. “We’ll keep your bike and cargo in the garage. I can bring you some food. There's drinking water in the conservator.” He turned to the Biths. “Thanks. Sorry for the late call.”</p><p>She licked her lips as the Biths said their goodnights and left. “Don't trouble yourself with food, I have provisions. I am going to need to change his bandages,” she told Sarloo, gesturing to El. Bandages alone wouldn’t be enough. Not for his injury. Sarloo had to know that.</p><p>He only nodded. “I can get you a clean set.”</p><p>What she truly needed was a medcenter. Or a medic. Who knew what the wound might look like once they finally got to the medcenter?</p><p>“Master Sarloo." Surely, her disheveled state had to be working for her. “I -- I truly hate to inconvenience you, and I'm so very grateful for your help. We'd have died without it--"</p><p>"No need to thank me. Could happen to anyone."</p><p>"All the same, we -- I'm deeply in your debt. I understand that travel to Mos Eisley is inadvisable at this time, but I could speak to the security personnel there, impress on them that this is an emergency--”</p><p>He was already shaking his head. “I don’t think the Imperial folks you’re familiar with are much like the ones here. Airspace around the city is locked down tight for several clicks. I imagine getting through all those checkpoints would take you as long as waiting for morning.”</p><p>Mara doubted it. “I have special clearance from the Imperial Nursing Service--”</p><p>“Won’t do you much good,” he told her. “Travel past curfew isn’t looked at well over at Mos Eisley for anyone. Might even be worse for your friend to be out there in that state all those stormtroopers poking and prodding at him.” His hand gesture indicated the entirety of El’s leg. Mara felt sweat beading at her hairline although climate controls had seemed to be working fine when they entered. “No, Miss, it’s not a good idea. In the morning, things will go smoother, you’ll see. You’ll be at the Medcenter in no time.”

</p><p>She clenched a fist beside her. She could get in. She was sure of it. All Sarloo had to do was ask his help to take them. But would he even believe her if she told him the truth? Worse, what if he was a dissident himself? Tatooine was crawling with them -- wasn’t that why Mos Eisley was under martial law? And if he <i>were</i> a dissident, and she blew her cover...It’d be both her and El at his mercy. Things could get complicated.</p><p>
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    <i>Another tack first. “Is there no one nearby that could make a house call?” The more she thought of the idea, the more she found it suitable. “I--I can pay for the hardship. My friend -- I don’t know how fragile his state is.” Someone to stabilize the wound before they left would actually be her best option. A compromise. “We’ve been out in the desert all day, the wound needs a better cleaning than I could offer--”</i>
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    <i>He touched her arm and she tamped on the impulse to jerk it away. “I understand your concern, but the evening won’t make a difference. I was about to suggest we start him up on a low dose of antibiotics, I don’t know how they do it where you’re from but it’s a fairly standard preventative measure around here.” </i>
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</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Mara ground her teeth. Would that be enough? What if it wasn't? They didn't just get rescued from the desert for El to be cheated out of leaving this forsaken planet.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Please," she whispered. “There has to be someone who can help him now."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>And there it was, a twitch in his sense. So there was someone.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>But a beat later he was shaking his head. "I'm very sorry, Miss, but these are the limitations in these parts. Your friend will be all right, I assure you. The antibiotics should keep any infection at bay until first dawn and you'll be at Mos Eisley before you know it. Try to get some rest for now."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>No.</p><p>
The first lessons were always the most useful ones, she thought blankly. What difference did it make to <i>Sarloo</i> who the desert got?

</p><p>It wouldn't get El. She'd make sure of it.</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Mara drew out her holdout.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Her voice was as level as her arm when she said, "Please reconsider, Master Sarloo."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>He startled, perhaps at the change in her demeanor, stiffened when he registered the holdout.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Get on your comlink," she said tonelessly, her holdout still trained on him, "and raise the nearest medic. Both of you will receive compensation for the inconvenience."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>He simply stared at her. "Miss, you don't have--"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"If something happens to my friend as a result of your failure to cooperate," her voice lowered even more, "I will hurt you."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Sarloo slowly raised his hands. Mara didn’t know if it was meant to show he wasn’t resisting or a a calming gesture for her benefit. "He will be fine."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>It fell in to place then, that perhaps the guest lodgings were distant from the main garages for a reason. A solitary rancher wouldn't have a property this large. "I will hurt <i>all</i> of you."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"He’ll be fine, I promise, Miss," Sarloo said calmly, belying the fear seeping from him. "I've seen much worse and with the antibiotics --"
</i>
  </i>
</p><p>She was through with arguments and appeals. One final point to make. She casually lifted her hand, hitting the door release with the Force to make it hiss shut. </p><p>Sarloo full-on blanched.</p><p>"It won't help you to lie to me. I know there's someone you can call.” That shift in his sense had to mean something. “Call them. Now."
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Sarloo drew in a breath, gathering himself. "He...doesn't treat humans anymore."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Would you trust him with your life?” </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>His pause told her he’d taken in her meaning. The nod was slow.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Then call him.” For a second, she wondered if Sarloo would challenge her, but instead his hand went to the comlink at his belt. Mara almost sagged in relief. He carefully pressed in a code.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Rolph, I have an emergency." Pause. "An emergency means no. No, it can't."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Urgency seeped into his voice the longer his interlocutor kept talking. "Just get here." He closed the line. "It'll take him about half an hour."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"You mentioned antibiotics?" Mara said after a beat. "Let’s start there."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>--</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Mara had followed him up to a supply room in the livery where he withdrew an IV drip and a bottle. It now lay beside El awaiting the medic. She’d eaten a ration bar while she waited back in the guest quarters, conscious of Sarloo's wary eyes on her. In her a experience, a flagrant display of the Force guaranteed an opponent's distance for the immediate future. She was reasonably sure Sarloo was spooked enough to want them gone as soon as possible, and would play his part.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>Far more concerning was the tiredness creeping behind Mara’s eyes. She knew better than to give in. Finally, an alarm at Sarloo’s belt announced someone’s arrival onto the property. Mara went after Sarloo, who hurried into the turbolift and up the stairs. </p><p>A landspeeder was parked within the outermost edge of the livery, smaller than the one that had brought them, but larger than the models Mara had seen in Mos Espa and Bestine. A being was getting out and as they came into the security lights, Mara saw it was a Rodian. She’d put the holdout away, but remained attentive. Aliens were always so hard to read.</p><p>“What’s the problem that couldn’t wait, Weston?” the Rodian asked Sarloo, annoyance plain. His Basic was unaccented, scarcely different from Sarloo’s, but his voice was far gravelier.

</p><p>
Sarloo’s eyes flickered towards Mara. “Let me show you.” He led Sarloo to the guest quarters.  The Rodian's gaze on Mara was inquisitive, despite the cloudy quality to the black of his eyes. He said nothing as he lumbered behind them, his gait slower and plodding. In the light of the entrance area to the guest quarter dome, she could see the Rodian’s droopy sensory horns and discolored patches of skin around his snout. Age or the rough living here, she didn’t know.

</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>They took the turbolift back down, passing through the door. One look at El on the bed and the Rodian twisted his snout. "You know I don't treat humans."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"I know," Sarloo said, conciliatory. "I know. I wouldn't have asked if it wasn't an emergency."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"What does he got?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"An open fracture on his left shin," Mara supplied. "We had a bike accident. Master Sarloo was kind enough to come to our aid."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Of course he did," the Rodian grumbled. "But this should be treated at Mos Eisley. I thought someone was dying," he scolded Sarloo. "This is no emergency."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"It’s serious enough." Mara had no patience for yet another back and forth and pulled out her holdout. "Take a closer look."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The Rodian made a hacking sound at it. "Put that snapper away, girl. That’s no way to ask for help."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>She ignored him. "I tried to clean the wound but I didn't have the right supplies. I don't know how long before infection sets in."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Not yet. Not even close. Antibiotics give you plenty of lead time." He made another hacking sound. "You could wait until morning. Threatening a being over nothing."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  There, she snapped, "I <i>can't</i> wait."
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Just do what she asks, Rolph," Sarloo intervened.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"And you," the Rodian - Rolph - turned his black eyes to Sarloo, still with that chiding lilt. "Letting a pubescent wisp strongarm you." To Mara he said, "I haven't worked on humans in over a year. I’m retired. Mos Eisley is your best recourse."

</i></i></p><p>
"We're here and you’re here." Could she even trust Sarloo's people to take them now? What if the Rodian refused? She couldn't backtrack. She'd look weak. "And I didn't ask about Mos Eisley." It was better than taking her chances waiting.</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>But he said, "Weston, get me your radiographer and the intervention medkit." Turning to her, he barked, "Put that snapper away, young lady. No one likes working at blaster point. Make yourself actually useful."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Mara bit her lip, reaching out with the Force. Predictably, she couldn't get much past what she could see. Would he harm El? She didn't trust him, but Sarloo was looking at her again.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>"I've known Rolph for a long time. Your friend is safe," he said.</p><p>"I hope so," she replied. "For both your sakes." Holstering her holdout, Mara grudgingly followed Sarloo outside. They approached a dome next to one of the animal pens. Sarloo punched in a code and the door opened. There were bottles with chemical names on the shelving units, a couple of electrical prods on the walls and other tools. He walked to the far end of the room, pulling out what looked like a long toolbox and a small container.

  
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
When they returned, Rolph had donned sterile thinskin gloves and was taking the dressingfrom El's leg, his own set of implements laid out on a table. He’d already started El up on an IV drip. Sarloo hissed as he got a glimpse of the wound. Mara suppressed the urge to look away. All her exposure to it had done nothing to make it look less nasty. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"What sedative did you use?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Myoplexaril," she replied. "One point five.”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Rolph muttered something in a language she couldn't understand, ending with "We're looking at four hours, thereabouts. I’ll have to close latch the next dose. When did you administer it?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"About a couple of hours ago." She looked at her chrono, calculating the exact time.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Rolph made a note of it, but otherwise ignored her. Mara could feel Sarloo's eyes on her as the Rodian removed the gloves, went to the smaller container, opened it, and pressed some buttons that lit up the top. At the same time a tripod extended from under the container. With a whir, a scope moved, scanning over El's leg. Minutes later,a blue-ish image came up on what used to be the lid of the machine, now transformed into a screen. Mara squinted at its crude two dimensionality, expecting a normal holo.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Rolph traced the image with a long green finger, the suction cups at the ends visible from where Mara stood. Would that preclude him from doing a good job? She'd never been treated by an alien. “He’s lucky," Rolph grunted, interrupting her thoughts. "Bone didn't shard off at the end. A matter of getting the area cleaned up, setting and pinning in place.”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Pin?” Mara echoed.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The Rodian looked at her. “Intramedullary pins. You don’t think the bone is going to hold itself in place on its own, do you?”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“He’ll need them removed later?”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Rolph went to another container and pulled out a small oval object roughly two inches long. It beeped when he pressed a button. “Not necessarily,” he said dismissively. “But it depends.”</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“What’s that?” Mara jutted her chin forward. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>“Sonic scrubber,” the Rodian said without looking at her, going for another pair of gloves. “Lot of sand and dirt in there. Now, should I stay here jabbering away or should I get to work?” He turned back to El before Mara could answer.</i>
  </i>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Chapter 20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A persistent headache pulsed at Mara's temples. Her stomach felt long past hollowed out.</p><p>I should probably eat something, she thought distantly, as if the Rodian physician wasn't sealing up El's shin right in front of her, his thin skin gloves slick with El's blood. As if he wasn't doing it because she'd threatened him and Sarloo, who was eyeing her warily, had been eyeing her warily since Rolph had started. How long ago had that been anyway? Mara checked her chrono.</p><p>Four hours.</p><p>By the second hour, she'd given up on standing and had sat cross-legged on the floor. Sarloo was staring at her so fixedly that she’d wondered if throwing out good will had been necessary.</p><p>That was just the tiredness talking. The headache.</p><p>Sarloo wouldn't have called Rolph without being threatened, and she'd be even more on edge with El's leg getting worse by the minute. She knew that -- it just didn't help against the fever brightness of her vision or the random moments when she lost focus, thoughts stretching out like old tack glue. Soon, Mara told herself. Rolph had announced he'd be sealing the incision. He’d be done. El would be fine.</p><p>She'd done the right thing. She just needed rest -- the kind of rest she wouldn't get here, not now.</p><p>The two Biths, called back by Sarloo, moved El from the medcot to the bed.</p><p>Mara realized belatedly that Rolph was talking to her and jerked up to a standing position. "...give him another round of the sedative in about an hour. No sense in him waking up and ruining his leg."</p><p>Eight more hours. Just the thought made Mara almost sway. She looked at her chrono again. </p><p>"Daybreak is hours away.” It felt like there was grit in her throat.  She cleared it before adding, "He can recover at Mos Eisley."</p><p>The Rodian made another clacking sound Mara recognized now as disapproval. "Moving him at this stage risks the wound reopening. The tissue adhesive takes about twelve hours to fully set to synthskin levels, ideally a full day."</p><p>They couldn't stay here a full day. She couldn't stay <i>awake</i> a full day. Her eyes went to Sarloo who was now quietly dismissing the Biths again. She'd threatened Sarloo and his family, his people and whoever else. Who knew what kind of retaliation he was thinking up? </p><p>"We have to move him.”</p><p>"All that waving your snapper business for what?" Rolph shook his head. "If the tissue adhesive doesn't fully set and the wound reopens, jostling the bone, you're looking at another intervention that requires anesthesia and a longer healing period. The pins are in place with an organic regen but that can change if your friend startles and forgets himself. Or if you do. Do I need to tell you you can't open and close the body like a bag?" He began sliding the surgical instruments into the autosanitizer. “Any time you reopen a wound, you deal with increased recovery time.” </p><p>Okay, Mara thought. She'd power through somehow. She'd have to. "Recovery time after the tissue adhesive takes? After the twelve hours."</p><p>The Rodian’s snout crinkled up. "Varies. Depends on how the bone handles the organic regen. It's not hospital human grade like you'd find at Mos Eisley. There's a chance it won't have any effect. In that case you're looking at a four month recovery thereabouts."</p><p>Mara felt herself grow cold again. She couldn't stay on Tatooine that long. No bacta recovery she knew of -- not even for life threatening injuries -- ever took longer than a couple of months at most. Surely he was exaggerating. The autosanitizer dinged softly.</p><p>"Mos Eisley Med can give you follow-up," he removed the instruments and began packing them up, "take care of the incision scar. They might be able to shorten the recovery time, if his body ignores the regen."</p><p>Her legs felt weak. What a disaster.</p><p>"They'll give you more pointers on care over there," he said, closing his bag and separating it from the instruments and other supplies he’d borrowed from Sarloo.</p><p>That was that. Mara mechanically went to her bag and grabbed one of her heavier credit chips. She ambled over to Rolph and stretched out her arm. "All right. Thank you." </p><p>The Rodian looked down at her hand as if she were holding a hissing fanned rawl at him.</p><p>Mara was too tired for niceties. “It was an inconvenience, right?” She shoved her hand at him. “So, here. This should cover it.”</p><p>His posture changed slightly. “I didn’t ask for your blood credits.”</p><p>She scowled, suddenly roused from the heaviness plaguing her. “These are not blood credits. It's all legiti--”</p><p>He turned away.</p><p>“You did work," she raised her voice, "You get paid.”</p><p>“This is why I don’t work with humans," he snapped, jerking his bag towards him in a huff.  "They force things their way and then dump credits as if that makes a difference.”</p><p>“Rolph!” Sarloo called out from his corner of the guest room, a distinct note of warning in his voice.</p><p>“Oh for the Grand Protector’s sake,” he spat, looking over at Sarloo. “At minimum she’s spent six hours in a midday desert and her sweetheart’s on the cot with a splintered leg. She’s not going to shoot anybody, Weston. She’s just a lovesick child with a blaster. Possibly one of those thieving runaways. Not much older than your Ti--”</p><p>“Rolph, please,” Sarloo interrupted firmly. “I <i>am</i> sorry we disturbed you.”</p><p>Mara felt her eyes narrow, but she didn’t care enough to say more. He wasn't going to take her credits. Fine.</p><p>The Rodian didn’t even look at her as he went by. Sarloo followed him out, speaking in hushed tones. She should go after them, Mara thought. They were probably plotting right now, but she found it difficult to summon the energy or even think up possible defense. Her head felt like sludge, the physician's words going round and round. </p><p>Four months. That couldn't be true. Surely, Mos Eisley would have something that would enable a fraction of that recovery time. He'd said as much. </p><p>But even three weeks of a medcenter stay would be too much. She couldn't stay that long.</p><p>Mara made herself stumble back to her bag and shove the credits back in. She’d leave Tatooine and he’d still be bedridden. She'd leave him bedridden, and have no way of keeping track of him, of knowing how it all turned out. </p><p>She should have never let El come with her.</p><p>The door hissed and she looked towards it. Sarloo.</p><p>“I apologize for Rolph,” he said quietly. “He's...complicated. He's...”</p><p>“No need to apologize.” She lifted a hand dismissively. “We'll leave in twelve hours." She slid back down to the floor, her hands on her lap, head bowing down. </p><p>"Something to eat?" Sarloo asked.</p><p>Mara shook her head. "You can ignore us for the next twelve hours," her voice came out again in that hoarse rasp. "I'm not interested in anything but my friend's state." She closed her eyes and rubbed at her temples. Maybe that hadn't come out right. </p><p>"I mean," she said hesitantly, "I'll stay out of your way. Pretend we're not here."</p><p>She looked up at him, expecting to see bitterness, but all she saw was pity. And maybe she did cut a pathetic figure, still with all the desert grime on her, her black eye, but she found it hard to care with El on the bed. Anything more than a week was too long and there was nothing she could do. Nothing.</p><p>"Is anyone..." he started carefully, "looking for you?" </p><p>Thieving runaway, she recalled. It made sense. He was probably worried he'd have to deal with <i>someone else</i> on top of everything.</p><p>"No one will harm you because of us."  Mara rubbed at her face. "We're not runaways. It was an...animal attack." She raised her eyes to him again. "Something came out of the sand and attacked…" She closed her mouth. What was the point of telling him anyway?</p><p>"Sarlacc?"</p><p>Mara stared at the rancher. Didn’t sound familiar. "Is it like a big bug?"</p><p>"More like a hole in the ground with grasping...tongues." He extended a hand. "There's a big one over at the Pit of Carkoon, but there's always talk of smaller ones across the desert."</p><p>It sounded bizarre to her. Then again, this was Tatooine. </p><p>"He," Mara gestured offhandedly to El, "told me about something called a sand demon. Could be that? I don't know what that is."</p><p>Sarloo made an acknowledging sound. "Ehh, I don't know of anyone who  has seen one. Four legs, pincers. Go against krayt dragons they say."</p><p>Four legs? Mara shook her head. It’d been vaguely worm-like as far as she could recall, but her memories had an unreal quality to them now. "Doesn't sound like it, longer than that, about ten meters, maybe more, I didn't get that close a look and uh, he was hurt so I don't know how much he saw."</p><p>Sarloo sounded conciliatory. "Well, all sorts of things come and go in the desert."</p><p>Mara bent her head. He could be doubting her story, but right now she was too exhausted to care.</p><p>"You look like you could use some rest."</p><p>Of course he noticed. "Like I said, we'll stay out of your way," Mara repeated. "I have...provisions, so you don’t need to give us anything more. I’m grateful for the assistance you’ve given us. In twelve hours it'll be like we were never here."</p><p>Mara could feel him scrutinizing her, some puzzlement seeping from him. She blinked several times. It would definitely not do to fall asleep right in front of him.</p><p>"I didn't want to threaten you and your...people" she found herself saying. "But my friend needed help. He's," she clenched her hand, a grounding gesture when all of her felt like it would seep down into the stone under her, "he's not the first to get hurt because..." </p><p>Stop it, she told herself. You don’t owe anyone explanations.</p><p>Sarloo didn't speak for a time but when he did, he said, "If you key in reset twice you can set your own code. I'll send Sev in the morning to take you to Mos Eisley.”</p><p>Mara looked on, shocked, as he let himself out. She was still staring at the door when the turbolift servomotors came on and when silence fell again. Eventually she shook herself and went to the door, inputting a new code. </p><p>After, she went to the ‘fresher and sonic'ed some of the desert off her face. She found a towel and used a bit of the water from her bottle on the cloth. She passed it gently over El’s face and climbed into the side of the bed inching closer to him. Once there, she just sank into sleep.</p><p>--</p><p>She woke because El was mumbling something beside her. It took her sleep-addled head a moment to put together he was calling her name. Or what he thought to be her name. </p><p>She rubbed his shoulder gently. “Hey, hey. I’m here.”</p><p>“Arica, Arica," he mumbled, the consonants mashing together. "Oh." He sounded like he had the first night at the hut. Scared.</p><p>She continued rubbing his shoulder, a little disoriented herself. "I'm here. I'm here."</p><p>"Arica, no. No. No," he gasped, his breathing had grown fast and he shifted. Mara looked down at his leg, alarm blossoming. His leg. He’d been hurt, treated, just a few hours ago. In this state of agitation, he could hurt himself.</p><p> "No!" he cried out.</p><p>Mara squeezed his arm, gently shifting even closer, half plastered to his side. "I'm here, El. I'm here. Everything is fine, you need to calm down. I'm here. I'm right here, El." She turned her face into his shoulder, he smelled like stale sweat and ointment, but okay. He would be okay. She slid an arm across his chest. </p><p>"Arica, Arica." He sounded desperate in a way that tore at her. Why was he having a nightmare while under sedation? Was that normal? Memories of just a few hours made her freeze. He'd been like that before Sarloo had gotten them too, and it could be something else--</p><p>"You're okay," she whispered quickly. “It’s okay." Her words were muffled against his shoulder. He'd be okay. He had to be. "I'm right here."</p><p>Mara felt him wake. </p><p>"Arica?" he said drowsily, his arms clumsily coming around her.</p><p>"Yeah," she lifted her head, "Take it easy."</p><p>She couldn't see his pupils, but from his movements and his slurred voice, she guessed he was still in the throes of the sedative. Why the nightmare then?</p><p> "Where're we?"</p><p>"A dewback ranch. A rancher helped us. He called a doctor who worked on your leg."</p><p>"Dewback...ranch?"</p><p>“A guest room there." Mara brought a hand to his stubbly cheek. "You should rest, El. You just had a bad dream." Maybe he was just coming out of it. She didn’t know. </p><p>"In pain...," he mumbled. "Too much."</p><p>She felt herself stiffen. "What hurts? Your leg? El?" It was too soon to give him another painkiller. Was that what had prompted the nightmare?</p><p>"Not me." He half patted half stroked the back of her arm, then gave a faint squeeze. "You."</p><p>A chill went down her spine for no reason. Mara forced out a snort. He was projecting. That was a common side effect, wasn't it?</p><p>"No, I’m fine. It's your leg that's been broken, but you'll be okay. Just rest, El. It was a bad dream, that's all. You need to rest, we’ll get to a medcenter in a bit."</p><p>Silence lingered for a few minutes. Had he fallen asleep? She hoped he had. </p><p>"Been trouble," he slurred. Apparently not. He <i>should</i> sleep though.</p><p>She stroked across his cheek with her thumb and hazarded a guess as to what he meant. "No."</p><p>"Liar," he sighed.</p><p>Mara chuckled softly and nestled her head against his chest, pulling her hand from his cheek to wrap her arm around him again. El didn't say anything else, his breathing even. He must have fallen asleep this time, she thought but then his voice rumbled from beneath her though it came out as a whisper.</p><p>"Need a sonic."</p><p>She chuckled again. "So do I," she whispered back. “But I’m not going anywhere.”</p><p>He didn't say anything in response, but there was the faintest squeeze at her arm.</p><p>--</p><p>Mara slept until the alarm she’d set woke her. She fel utterly disgusting, her skin clammy with sweat and grime. She eased off El, who shifted his hold on her too quickly for him to have just woken.</p><p>She rolled to her side, facing him and turned on the lights. “How are you feeling?”</p><p>He made a disgruntled noise. </p><p>“Not great,” he said, his voice scratchy, blinking at the brightness. His face was still reddened from the sunburn, but he lifted a gentle hand to her cheekbone. “When you fell off the bike?”</p><p>She figured she probably looked worse with her black eye. “No, I misaligned. Recoil.” She gestured to his leg. “How is it?”</p><p>He shrugged, expression shuttering.</p><p>“You’re alive,” Mara pointed out. His eyes looked clear. She wondered how long ago the sedative had worn off, leaving him with her sleeping like a rock. she was just glad he was himself. "We both are."</p><p>El smiled, and she felt something in her chest constrict at it. Even with a day’s worth of desert on him she found his smile more than attractive. Beautiful, maybe. “Thanks to you.”</p><p>She shook her head. “Thanks to that rancher who picked us up.”</p><p>“I didn’t shoot up that..." he lifted a hand, "well whatever that was. Neither did he.”</p><p>“It was your idea to use the spat. And besides, I think it was just spooked off-- would have meant nothing without someone coming up to us in the desert." She stopped. "The rancher didn't know what it was either.” </p><p>"All sorts of things come and go in the desert." </p><p>Mara huffed. Hadn't Sarloo said that too? A local expression then, she found it less amusing after what they’d been through. "That's what he said. The doctor Sarloo called did work on your leg," she told him. "But it needs following up."</p><p>El lifted his head. "Following up?" </p><p>"It required surgery," Mara told him. "You might have forgotten how your <i>bone</i> was visible."</p><p>"How long till I can get out of bed?" He was getting that stubborn angle to his jaw, which was insane, all things considered. </p><p>"They'll tell us at Mos Eisley. "</p><p>El made a frustrated noise and let his head fall back on the pillow.</p><p>"They're giving us a ride to Mos Eisley Med--"</p><p>"I can't go there," he said flatly, eyes on the ceiling. "Hospitals ask for identification. It's standard medical protocol. Clinics don't."</p><p>Clinics were far more limited, Mara knew that much. She wasn't taking him to some squalid, barely licensed clinic. </p><p>"I told you last time," Mara lifted her chin, "You leave that to me. Focus on staying put and getting better." </p><p>"Arica, I can't be lying around here for days."</p><p>"You can't <i>risk aggravating that leg</i>. Or do you want <i>months</i> of bed rest?” she snapped. “You want to wait that long to get off this rock? I wouldn't."</p><p>He didn't answer. </p><p>Mara softened her tone. "I know you didn't want to go to Mos Eisley. It's just the closest medcenter, El. It'll be fine."</p><p>"There's a clinic at Anchorhead," he said,  "Mos Eisley's locked up anyway. You can't just walk in."</p><p>"I can." She waited for him to respond, but he didn't say anything, only kept looking up. Mara fought off a wave of irritation. She was trying to make the best of a bad situation, why was he being so difficult? "What you have requires expert attention."</p><p>"They see broken bones at clinics all the time."</p><p>Mara ground her teeth. "It's just for treatment, El. They're bound to have some way to get you patched up quickly. We'll leave as soon as we can."</p><p>"We?" He finally looked at her.</p><p>"Of course we. What did you think? I wouldn't just leave you at Mos Eisley." The words were just out of her mouth when it dawned on her. That had been it, hadn't it? She frowned. "You thought I would?"</p><p>El gave a shrug. "You're on a schedule."</p><p>"Yeah, but…" But what... exactly? He was looking at her curiously. "You're here because of me," she blurted out. "That makes you my responsibility. Leaving you like this wouldn't be right." She sat up. "I don't need to know what happened at Mos Eisley-- "</p><p>"Nothing happened at Mos Eisley," he said, but he didn't meet her eyes.</p><p>"It doesn't matter, El. We'll go in, get you treated and leave. That's it."</p><p>El's "Fine," didn't seem like much of a concession, but she wasn't going to push the matter. Mara slid off the bed and went to sonic, feeling a little guilty. At Mos Eisley they'd find a way to make him more comfortable. She’d make sure of it.</p><p>Not long after she came out and had gathered the few bags they still had left, the annunciator rang. Lifting her shoulders at El’s inquisitive look, she went over to open the door and found the Biths were at the reception area in front of the turbolift, a mass of large baskets and a container set on the floor around them.</p><p>Mara glanced at the objects quizzically, but zeroed in on the Biths.</p><p>“We’re ready,” she told them. </p><p>“About that,” one of them said, his large head bobbing slightly. “Sandstorm’s coming, probably in a few hours from now. Not safe to fly until mid-afternoon.”</p><p>She supposed it wasn’t, but she felt that slow crawl of anxiety in her gut, all of last night’s worries resurging. Another delay. </p><p>“Boss sent some food.”Another Bith gestured with a long fingered hand to a woven basket that reached her knee. She glimpsed some pallies on the top, and other colors she couldn’t place. “Fruit and some such. Also,” he gestured to a round metal container roughly the size of her arm. “Water. For hygiene.”</p><p>By now Mara had been on Tatooine long enough to know this wasn’t something trivially given, and Sarloo probably used it for his dewbacks, apart from his own family. To give them this for something other than sustenance seemed like an undeserved luxury.</p><p>"I can pay--"</p><p>The first Bith shook his head. "He doesn't want your credits. For washing the patient." Another basket was set beside it. “Guzunder, cloth, purifier, and other things.”</p><p>Mara blinked. It was too much, especially after...She closed her eyes. “Tell Master Sarloo, we are -- we are in his debt.” She inhaled. “We’ll be ready by mid-afternoon then.” </p><p>The Biths nodded, seeming to be in a hurry, and turned back to the turbolift. Mara watched them go with a winding feeling in her chest.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Chapter 21</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>”This is not your speeder,” the stormtrooper gestured to the numbers identifying the landspeeder as a rental.</p><p>“Correct. I just rented it from the shop back by Mos Eisley Medcenter. Name of Bento’s Speeder Rental,” Mara replied, lifting her chin. “Would you like to see the receipt?”</p><p>Beside her, she could feel El radiating tension as he looked out the window or down at his bone brace. Mos Eisley had been under martial law since the disaster at Yavin. This had been the third time they’d been stopped, the first had been when Sev had crossed into the city to take them into Mos Eisley Med. “We arrived from around Motesta a couple of days ago as our data from checkpoint three-zero-nine will confirm.” That had been the second.</p><p>The stormtrooper scanned the landspeeder’s registration. “What’s your business at Mos Eisley?”</p><p>Mara gestured to El. “My friend needed an emergency procedure at Mos Eisley Med.”</p><p>The stormtrooper lifted his head to peer over at El, who looked ahead. Mara fought the urge to sigh. Not looking at the stormtroopers was a plain flag and she’d told him. Luckily, a year into the lockdown of this cesspool of a city, the stormtroopers were used to all sorts of flags from its denizens.</p><p>She and El had just waited a good thirty minutes while the landspeeder in front of them had been thoroughly searched. The stormtroopers had all but taken the speeder apart. Mara heard the loud crashing sounds of what must have been several stoneware pots breaking, and grimaced. The Sullustan driver only thanked the stormtroopers effusively when he’d been allowed back into his vehicle -- enough that he was told to <i>save it and get out of here</i>.</p><p>The stormtrooper attending Mara turned back to her. "Receipt and identification. Your passenger too.” </p><p>At least El didn’t gasp the way he had the first time, drawing more unwanted attention.</p><p>But here she was again. Mara fought her impatience as she dug out her data chip from her pocket. It was understandable that there’d be a larger military presence after the attack -- especially because it was rumored that the Jedi who destroyed the base came from Mos Eisley -- but the checkpoints were long and obnoxious. The bantha stew she'd ordered for them was packed up on the backseat, and she was hungry.</p><p>“Here you go.” She handed the chip to the stormtrooper, who slid it into his datapad. After one look at her face, he returned it to her</p><p>“Apologies for the inconvenience, Ms. Jannisih,” he said. “You have a nice evening.”</p><p>“Thank you,” she replied with a curt nod.</p><p>El looked at her as they flew off. By now he had to know now she had connections. No matter what happened long ago, he had nothing to worry about with her here.</p><p>The apartment she'd selected was near the dividing line between the  old quarter and the new quarter of Mos Eisley, a few streets from the famous wreckage of <i>Dowager Queen</i>, the Old Republic ship which had brought the first colonists, around which the town had originally sprouted. Jabba’s operations were in the old quarter. It was safe to keep her distance despite the stringent Imperial control over the city.</p><p>The new quarter had historically been safer but also more crowded according to the holodocs:  streets, markets, and establishments clogged with sentients, especially close to the spaceport. Increased military presence and mandated curfews meant less crowding -- the city streets were eerily deserted after the suns went down, Mara had found -- but prices for lodging were still easily triple what she’d encountered on Tatooine so far, including in Bestine, the so-called capital, and required elaborate data checks to rent, even for a night or two. </p><p>That said, there <i>were</i> plenty of empty lodgings in the new quarter now that the big businesses had moved elsewhere on Tatooine amd she did find accommodations that weren't terribly over budget. </p><p>“The way I see it,” she told El as she keyed in the code, “we don’t have to go all the way to Anchorhead.” She walked in and set her bag on a small table. “We can just stay here. If I need to, I can go by myself and be back in the evening or morning. I don’t think making inquiries will take that long. Not from the maps I’ve seen.”</p><p>El walked in after her, limping. It wasn’t pain so much as the added weight of the bone brace, she knew. She also knew, not that El had said anything, that he hated it. His body <i>had</i> ignored the organic regen, leaving only two options at Mos Eisley Med: a standard surgical reintervention, which would have meant one week at the hospital plus two more weeks of sustained bed rest, or a less invasive supporting measure for the bone.</p><p>El had  rejected the option of an extended hospital stay, so now the lower part of his leg was encased in a recovery brace, not quite of a prosthetic-grade seal, but close. Its function was mainly restrictive, allowing only a limited range of motion to ensure proper healing of the bone. </p><p>The downside, apart from discomfort and impaired mobility, was that El would have to return for progress monitoring in a week, then again two weeks later for an extra month-- all under Mara’s clearance privileges.</p><p>“Would that be better?” she prompted as he limped on ahead of her into the room.</p><p>It was nothing much, slightly larger than the room they’d been given at Sarloo’s or the hut at the Wastes. Like the guest quarters at Sarloo’s, it was underground, but much more comfortable due to its state of the art cooling system, an amenity the go-between Mara had used had taken pains to emphasize. Walking in, Mara would have expected to have been used to the narrow cavelike feeling of Tatoonian spaces by now, but couldn’t shake the vague claustrophobic feeling. At least the room had a convertible couch, which meant they wouldn’t be sleeping on the floor again.</p><p>El didn’t answer.</p><p>“It’d be easier to just stay here, in any case," she summed up.</p><p>This was the first time she’d gone over her plans with him, which made his silence surprising. El’s whirlwind treatment at the medical center had given them little time to discuss anything. He’d been mostly withdrawn for the two days, more distant and quiet than he’d ever been since they’d met. The only time he'd been back to some shade of himself was the second night, when it occurred to her that he'd said he didn't blame her, but he hadn’t understood the severity of his injury then. His dreams were now derailed. Because of her.</p><p>And he'd blinked at her blearily when she'd broached it, reaching for her hand. </p><p>"I chose to be there. I wanted to be there. With you. It’s just…" He'd sighed. </p><p>"Mos Eisley," she'd whispered. El had never wanted to be here. Whatever happened had to have been awful.</p><p>"I wish things were different," he whispered back.</p><p>The mournful note was clear in his voice and she hadn't known what to reply. El might not have been angry, but there was a palpable ache in him she could do nothing about, only give his hand a squeeze. </p><p>”We won’t stay long here,” she’d promised then, and he had been discharged only a day later.</p><p>Now Mara watched him perch himself awkwardly on one of the stools by the counter. She left her bag on the floor and reached for her lightsaber, dropping to her knees to scan the pourstone.</p><p>”What are you doing?”</p><p>She looked up and smiled at him. Good, asking questions was good. “I don’t really trust this place. I’m going to carve out a spot for the lightsaber.”</p><p>He didn’t smile back. “Why? There’s enough...security out in the streets.”</p><p>Mara snorted as she worked on the pourstone. She closed down her lightsaber and drew out her multitool to finish cutting out a slab of rock. “I wouldn’t call stormtroopers <i>security</i>. If you want shooting, sure, but a good thief probably gets theirs just fine even with all those boots outside.”</p><p>Mara pried out the slab of rock to examine the crevice she created. </p><p>“You paid extra to be able to do that?” El asked.</p><p>Mara let out a chuckle. “It’ll be fine. Once the stone is back in there you won’t even notice.”</p><p>”You could probably trash the place and they wouldn’t do anything, right? The people you’ve rented it from.”</p><p>Mara made a face as she took out the lightsaber she’d taken from Jabba's men. “Why would I do that?” She slid it in the newly created cavity and looked up.  </p><p>He began undoing the bags that held their food containers. "Did you make any headway in searching for that guy?”</p><p>Rather abrupt change of subject, Mara thought, sliding the stone over. "Not a lot," she admitted with a slight wince. Truth was she'd spent both days focused on El, finding the apartment, and getting familiar with the complexities in navigating the city given all the checkpoints. "But it's a fair bet someone somewhere knows something. Just have to figure out the right questions. Could be that the moisture farmers in the area hid him for a while." That'd be the kind of thing stormtroopers wouldn't pursue.</p><p>"They wouldn't risk it," he said, pulling out his utensils.</p><p>Mara thought of Sarloo. "Unless he came up with a good story. People are hospitable here. See. All set." She gestured to the stone. 

</p><p>"How long ago was he sighted at that moisture farm?"</p><p> She went to sonic her hands. The ‘fresher was scarcely larger than the one in the hut. Talk about price gouging. Mara shook her head. "About a year or so ago," she called out.</p><p>"Could have gone anywhere since then," El noted once she came out.</p><p>"Yeah." She slid herself on the chairs by the counter. It was a long shot, she knew that. "This is a good place for someone to vanish."</p><p>"You know which farm?" he asked between mouthfuls.</p><p>"I do. I forgot -- let me look it up." She left her food, wanting to keep the conversation going more than she wanted to eat. "I just checked last night...," she pulled out her datapad from her bag, "Lars property."</p><p>“What?”</p><p>She looked up at the sharpness in his voice. "Lars." He was staring at her, wide eyed and...spooked.  "You know them."</p><p>"Yeah.” His eyes had gone murky. "Like--like the Darklighters and Marstraps. Old farming families in the area." Something about how he said it didn't feel quite right. He licked his lips and continued, "There was a -- a fire."</p><p>Oh. Mara frowned. He seemed too...upset for that. “A fire?”</p><p>He nodded, his face ashen. “It was...bad.” He bowed his head. “A while ago.”</p><p>"You saw it?" Mara cocked her head.</p><p> El seemed to shrink in place. He was utterly still for a moment, then gave a small shake of his head.</p><p>He was from here? She took her seat again and gingerly reached for her food. <i>Old farming families in the area.</i> Perhaps here these old families were like the Tagges and the Fells who seemed to employ half the Empire on a good day-- the documents did say the farm had been in the family for generations.</p><p>It made sense for a cell to hide under a known name. They often did this. But a fire hadn’t been in her files, only that the found dissidents had been executed, so it had to have been before then. If it was such a big incident it should have been mentioned. Were her files incomplete?</p><p>El had started picking at his food listlessly and Mara's thoughts turned to him. His reluctance to go to come here was clear. <i> I would rather not be recognized there</i>. There being Anchorhead. Of course, for its closeness to Mos Eisley. The past he’d run away from was here. Or very close.</p><p>She had given herself a week to search for the dissident. It was a low-priority task, she <i>had</i> to stick to the timeline. If El had decided on the longer medcenter stay, she wouldn't have been able to spend more than a few hours with him, if that, until their time ran out. El must have known that, too.</p><p>The thought made her look over at him again. He was moving food around his plate, occasionally eating as if forcing himself. He was only here because of her.</p><p>Mara had the urge to walk over and wrap her arms around his waist, press her cheek against his back. Her search would most likely yield nothing, but it had already cost him, <i>was</i> costing him. No wonder he hadn’t been himself, no doubt caught in a fog of bad memories. His wound certainly didn't help either.</p><p>“Is it okay?” she asked for lack of anything else to say, but somehow reluctant to let silence sink too deeply between them. “At least it should be better than whatever they served you at the medcenter?” </p><p>El made some vague acknowledging sound, and Mara decided it was better to let him be. Would it be like at Bestine -- that he’d need some time alone and would leave to go off somewhere? She would understand this time, of course, she would, but <i>he couldn’t</i> not with the curfew and patrols outside.</p><p>But El seemed to focus enough to finish his plate and announced he’d sonic. She wouldn’t question anything, Mara told herself. Nothing. She’d give him his space.</p><p>It was the least she could do.</p><p>Later on, after she’d sonic’ed and lay next to him in the dark, she ventured, “I meant what I said. There’s no need for both of us to go to Anchorhead.”</p><p>For a few moments, all she could hear was his even breathing, and she started to wonder if he had already fallen asleep.

</p><p>“So you don’t want me to go?” he finally asked.</p><p>“Nothing like that,” she replied quickly. “I only want you to be all right.” Her pillow rustled as she turned her face towards his in the dark. She missed him, she realized, missed his easygoing smile, his stories, his teasing.  “I don’t know what bad experience you had around here, and I’m not going to ask, but you’re already paying for coming with me across the desert. And this place -- I can see how it can feel...stifling. I’m sorry I dragged you here, El, but,” she stopped.</p><p>“But?”</p><p>But even this taciturn version of him was better than him not being here with her at all. “I’m still happy you’re here,” she whispered. It felt like Bestine all over again.</p><p>That feeling faded when Mara felt his hand along her arm, something loosened in her as if she could breathe easier.</p><p>“I don’t want to stay behind.” It seemed like he was about to say more but stopped and made a frustrated noise. “I already…”</p><p>Mara rolled over to touch his shoulder.  She settled in closer, pillowing her head on his shoulder, some tension draining, but her chest felt...sore. It had been like that last night at the med center too. </p><p>“One thing my uncle said about my father,” he began again more quietly. “When I was really little...” El stopped for a few beats, his hand idly stroking Mara’s upper arm. “That sometimes people leave and you think they’ll be coming back, but they don’t. I...asked my aunt about that and she -- she said he, my father, just left. Didn’t say anything to anyone. Not even good-bye. Seems like they didn't forgive him for it.” </p><p>Mara let his words linger in the air. Did that figure into his mood too? Dwelling on the time they had left? “Maybe your father thought it’d be better that way. Doing it quick, like pulling off a band-aid. It might have been too hard otherwise.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t do that.” His fingertips were under her chin. “Not to someone I cared about.”</p><p>“Does saying good-bye help?” she wondered out loud, feeling his lips by her shoulder. She closed her eyes and pushed her face into his hair, taking a deep breath. “I wouldn't think it makes a difference.” Still hurts, she thought. An explicit leave-taking didn’t change that. She wanted to bite her tongue, but nonsense still filtered out, “I would still think about you whether you said good-bye to me or not.”</p><p>His “You would?” was half muffled, two breaths against her skin. </p><p>She hazarded something else, “You know I would.” She felt him be taken aback, but he didn’t move away. “Or don’t you?” </p><p>He sounded oddly flustered when he replied, “No, I do. I do.” His hand lifted to her face, she felt his fingers by her forehead, her cheek, his thumb tracing her lips. All that heaviness <i>hurt</i>. </p><p>“I would think about you too,” he said softly. “But I still think I’d like a good-bye.”</p><p>The thought ached right behind her ribs. She didn’t want to think about that. No. It was still a ways off. </p><p>But would it have to be good-bye?</p><p>He passed his aptitudes, hadn’t he? </p><p>Mara blinked in the dark. Insane, and yet -- he'd <i>passed</i>. Passing meant he had to have had proper documentation once. Before he had run away. With her clearance those documents wouldn't be that hard to track. All it would take would be accessing an Imperial database at any local population management agency, and an hour, maybe less. With an identicard in hand compiled from the data he’d submitted, El could probably retake the aptitudes, pass them again.</p><p>He could enter the academy. She thought of that insane trip down that canyon by Mos Espa. He was clever, talented...and fearless. Of course he'd do well. Proper training would give him the opportunity to prove his skills, sharpen them into something formidable. He wanted to be a pilot? The Royal Academy would make him <i>the best</i>, make it so he'd be a shoo-in to the Imperial Navy. A little ambition and he would make a name for himself, shoot through the ranks, make captain in a few years, be granted his own Star Destroyer and crew, the kind of bright future everyone dreamed about. He could go from nothing to everything he could ever want. To <i>anything</i> he could ever want. </p><p>Her master rewarded ambition and talent. Handsomely.</p><p>“Arica?” She felt his breath on her lips and pulled him down for a kiss, and then another. Right now, there was only this, his weight half on her, the languorous sweetness of his kisses, his hands sure and warm all over her body. This could be more than a memory. A goal. It didn’t have to hurt.</p><p>El’s hand curved over her hip, slid across, skirting between her legs. All of sudden, Mara felt overfull. Excited, not just at his touch.</p><p>She was good at goals.</p><p>Mara threaded her hands in his hair, mouthed by his shoulder. He'd have to apply himself. El could, she thought. He just didn't know it was a possibility. That <i>they</i> were a possibility, a future out of this wretched, forsaken planet.</p><p>"El," she moaned as he touched her, drifting in the easy familiarity he had over her body. "I...would -- I would think about you all the time." How couldn't she when he made her feel like this? "I do think about you all the time. All the time."</p><p>Mara felt him draw in a breath. "Even," it was difficult to keep track of her words with the way he touched her. More than reassuring, his touch felt certain. <i>He'd</i> been the one reaching for her, at the hut, at Bestine, now. He'd put his dreams on pause for her and surely, when presented with all these possibilities...</p><p>She wrapped her arms around him, tightened her grip on him.</p><p>"Even?" he whispered, lips warm against her jaw.</p><p>Her breath caught as she shuddered, eyes falling shut. "Even when I shouldn't. I didn't -- I don't want you to get hurt. I -- I never wanted--”</p><p>“Arica,” his voice sounded chiding as he kissed the corner of her lips. “I would do it again. If it’s anyone’s fault it’s mine, I knew--”</p><p>“No--”</p><p>“You saved us both,” he insisted, “I know that, and if it's between this and not going with you, I would do it again. I wouldn't even think.”</p><p>“El." She went when he pulled her over him, pressing her forehead against his chest, her throat tight, her mind swimming as she reached for his hands. He gave them a squeeze before pulling her head down for a kiss. She would plan, she was good at plans. She would sketch out the contours of this and present it to him at the right time. Like a gift. For both of them.</p><p>"You called me a liar," she murmured, pulling away gently. "At Bestine."</p><p>"Arica, I was...upset," he sounded abashed, "I didn't m--" </p><p>"No, shh," she soothed, brushing a kiss by his jaw, "You were right. It's because I'm used to all that -- being someone else. Changing clothes, hair color, names, and maybe I can get tangled up in that."</p><p>His hand was warm on her arm, his voice a gentle ribbing when he spoke again, "I'm guessing they didn't call you Arica at court? Lady Jannisih?"</p><p>Mara snorted. "Closer to it than you might imagine. Claria. My master always suggested names with similar sounds. Maybe that's strange?" She chuckled. "But I'm strange, like you say." </p><p>El paused, latching on to what she’d said, of course. He always read her right, and so his voice was hushed as he asked, "What did he call you?"</p><p>Mara licked her lips. She wouldn't have said anything if she hadn’t wanted him to ask -- if she hadn't wanted to tell.</p><p>"He calls me Mara. That's what he's always called me. My parents might have given it to me but..." she shrugged, "It doesn't matter who did. It's who I am."</p><p>My master rewards ambition, she thought again. Handsomely.</p><p>"Mara," El whispered...surprised? He shouldn't be.</p><p>"My name," she said lightly as if it were nothing. Just a name. "It's simple, isn't it? It's no Lynnissa or Solarisee. But I told you, I'm not really from court."</p><p>"It's beautiful," he murmured, pulling her down for another breathless kiss and another. "<i>You're</i> beautiful. Doesn't matter the name, the clothes, the hair, or anything..."</p><p>"Oh, you're just saying that," Mara teased as he kept on kissing her, feeling brighter than she had in days, aglow by the horizon of possibilities, "because we're about to fuck again."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Chapter 22</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mara's chrono alarm woke her before first dawn. She shifted from where she’d been pressed up against El’s back, for once, not dripping with sweat. The cooling unit whirred  up a storm from somewhere above. </p><p>As she sat up, El shifted, murmuring something unintelligible. She put a hand on his arm. “I’m going to get breakfast and bring it back, ok?” </p><p>He mumbled something else, and she dropped a kiss on his shoulder before sliding off the bed. </p><p>Mara dressed and took the stairs up from the sublevel to the street. The first sun was bleeding in the horizon, blurry due to the sandy haze of the air. Sentients and their vessels clogged the streets outside, mingling with the ever present stormtrooper patrols, the city’s inhabitants taking advantage of the hours between curfew to head west towards the central market area. At least recent ordinances had banned animal transport, so she didn't have to worry about stepping on ronto dung on the street.</p><p>Mara didn’t want to go as far as the New Quarter's central market. She'd have to take the speeder and probably run into two checkpoints just on her way there; it'd be a total nightmare. During her time at Mos Eisley Med she hadn’t wandered more than a block or two away from the hospital, but she'd found that kiosks selling all sorts of wares tended to pop up in an ad-hoc manner all over the dusty cluster of buildings that made up the city, it was just a matter of walking long enough.</p><p>Twenty minutes of walking eastward, the patrols had noticeably decreased. The Old Quarter, the area left to Jabba, would be maybe twenty minutes more from here and there'd definitely be a checkpoint there more circumspect than any save those at the points of entry to the city -- as it should be. Bad enough the Empire had to cede any ground to the Hutt so this dungheap wouldn't completely fall apart, Mara thought, her lip curling in distaste. At least this way they ensured his slime stayed contained.</p><p>Soon the distinctive smokeyness of tomospice rose in the air, followed by some dissonant music and yelling. Turning towards the growing cacophony, she came to a mass of ragged tents and mechano kiosks, many more than she'd seen in the blocks around the medcenter, squeezed into a shaded area between two buildings. Mara joined the crowd, bracing herself for the overpowering smells of the market, smoke, spices, metal, and too many beings clumped together. The wave of sentients made its way inside, passing stalls with everything from basics like protein paste and fruit, to vials of perfumes and aromatics, to jewelry, to colorful fabrics. She stepped away from the foot traffic to peer at the last, surprised.</p><p>"Ah-ah," a Neimodian male walked out from between the racks. "You touch it, you buy it," he scolded though Mara hadn't extended her hand. "Real shimmersilk."</p><p>Mara stared for a second. Here?</p><p>He named an exorbitant price.</p><p>Mara snorted and quickly rejoined the crowd. Probably stolen. How had they managed to smuggle it into the city? She walked by group of Nikto crouched around a small, sandpit in which two palm-sized beetles faced off, mandibles opening and closing, while they passed credits around. Several Jawas staffed a droid parts kiosk. The next kiosk had...weapons. Mara couldn't help inching towards it for a closer look. A line of DLs, DCs, WESTARs -- even several E-11s were shockingly displayed. Definitely contraband, incredibly illegal. Reason for detainment, or worse, here.</p><p>"What you looking for?" A Trandoshan crossed his massive arms over his chest. </p><p>She didn't answer, bowing her head to adjust her headscarf. That was enough of looking around. Something niggled at her, not quite alarm, through the Force. All this material couldn't have come from outside of Mos Eisley, which meant the boundary between the Old and New Quarter was bleeding through. Incompetent local authorities. All the resources given to them and they still couldn't mop up their mess. Mara ground her teeth, rushing past kiosks with cages with screetching animals to the food area.</p><p>One kiosk staffed by a couple of Dugs in thoroughly stained aprons had a group of sentients lined up. She figured that was a good sign, went to make the line when she felt someone touch her satchel. Her arm instinctively whipped out, closing around a small, green wrist, its long fingers with suckers at the ends.</p><p>Large, round black eyes stared at her as the Rodian pickpocket squeaked, trying to pull away. She couldn't guess the age or whether it was male or female, only that it was a youngling wearing a dirty, torn tunic. Its fear through the Force felt suddenly like grit in the air. Wait. Not just the youngling. She released her hold and the youngling stumbled, rushing away. The whole place felt like that. Mara returned to the line. </p><p>She’d just gotten her order and was leaving the market when a Chadra Fan nearly collided with her at full speed, chirping high enough to hurt her ears. The din around the place became urgent yelling. Mara picked up her pace, putting distance between herself and the chaos. Behind her, the Dugs were screaming something in Huttese, and behind them, a mass of sentients, like swarming insects, rushed to pull down the tents and undo mechano kiosks, and flee with the dispersing crowd. </p><p>An armored repulsorspeeder appeared up the road scarcely minutes later and apart from beeping at the foot traffic, it didn’t stop. Mara hadn’t seen any market this large dismantle itself this quickly before. She didn't stick around to see if it would put itself up again. More likely if that did happen, it'd be several streets away. These markets rarely stayed at one location for long.</p><p>--</p><p>The feeling of unease had mostly settled by the time Mara returned to their apartment. She didn't mean for them to stay at Mos Eisley for long anyway, only long enough to make a trip out to the salt flats and ask a couple of questions. After that, she and El could return to Mos Espa and...</p><p>She'd have to leave.</p><p>Mara pushed the thought aside as she input the access code to the apartment. There was plenty to go before that. Even after she was done with the salt flat business, she'd have to go figure out where Mos Espa's population management agency was and sort out El's identifications, not to mention comm to transition his medical care.</p><p>El straightened up quickly as she walked into the apartment, looking like she'd caught him with a face full of cake crumbs.</p><p>--which reminded her that the actual bureaucratic part of the injury would be easy compared to convincing him to actually be sensible about it.“You’re not supposed to fiddle with brace," she said as she went past him.</p><p>He had that pinched, irritated look he had the first time she'd caught him. “I just wanted to make it a little less uncomfortable.”</p><p>“Uncomfortable means the bone's ok,” she said, taking out the ahrisa and putting it on the counter, the only dining area this apartment had. Maybe she shouldn't say anything. She'd tried not to say anything, but...“You shouldn't strain the bone while it’s in recovery.” The last thing she wanted was him extending the recovery time for nothing. The nurses had been full of complaints that he wouldn’t stay still, that he kept testing the range of movement past acceptable bounds. He hadn't even been there for more than the required two days.</p><p>El didn't reply, offering sullen silence. Mara drew out her utensils with a frown. Maybe she shouldn't have said anything. It’d been a back and forth since they’d gotten in. Levity, when it came, never lasted. Clearly, he was upset about the wound, about Mos Eisley, all she'd end up doing would be poisoning things just before she had to go.</p><p>Mara summoned a more upbeat tone. “I got us ahrissa.” She pushed the drink at him. “And a ruby bliel. Had to fight off a passel of human children for it.”</p><p>El brightened. “Did you?” He grinned, reaching for the drink -- some fermented beverage sweet enough to be undrinkable, in her opinion -- and sat, going for the container with the ahrissa next. “I will cherish it.”</p><p>”You better,” she took a seat next to him, “I have bite marks on my knees.”</p><p>He snorted a laugh and Mara felt the atmosphere ease up. When she snuck a glance at him she found his expression tentative, his smile suddenly soft. "Last night--"</p><p>“I’m thinking --" Mara started at the same time as she reached for her food. "Sorry. Go on."</p><p>He shook his head. "You go."</p><p>"I think I should go to the Housing Bureau’s Office. Opens in an hour,” she said watching as the smile vanished from his face. And that was it, she thought, just like that the easy mood disappeared, but she had to plan, didn’t she? “To get a better sense of the salt flats.” </p><p>El reached for the bread.</p><p>“If I had looked up the way to Motesta more carefully--”</p><p>“No,” he interrupted between mouthfuls, exasperated. “That’s just the desert.”</p><p>Mara flashed him a skeptical look. “In all of Tatooine’s history I’m sure we’re not the first to encounter whatever that was. There had to be records, eye-witness reports. I was underprepared." And he got hurt because of it. "It's unacceptable.”</p><p>“My uncle used to say if the heat doesn’t kill you everything else will.” El waved a hand. “If it’s not some animal, it’s Sand People. Looking for more information is a waste of time. All sorts of things come and go in the desert.”</p><p>If she never heard that saying again it would be a moment too soon. Mara swallowed down her bite. Just because this planet was a cesspool didn’t mean she had to resign herself to whatever it threw at her. </p><p>“Besides, the salt flats are different. Much safer than the Wastes. Homesteads wouldn’t have been put up there if they weren’t.” He paused, thinking back, both hands around the bliel. “Wasn’t always that way. Sand People, for one, used to get closer to the farms. A couple of years ago when one of their sacred wells was poisoned, they went on a rampage near Anchorhead for revenge.”</p><p>Mara wondered if this had something to do with his general edginess. “And the nearest garrison in the area? They didn’t intervene?”</p><p>His expression turned distant. “No garrison at Anchorhead. Only Mos Eisley and it was nowhere near the size it is now.”</p><p>That would be obvious given all that had happened in the past year...and maybe it explained El’s distrust of Imperials. Tatooine had never been a priority for the Empire and now... She thought back to the Sullustan and his broken merchandise. </p><p>“The local militia took care of it,” El finished after taking a drink. “Luckily, there were no casualties.”</p><p>She nodded. The ahrissa was still too spicy for her and she went for some of the polta bean paste to slather on the bread. Not her first choice either, but she could stomach it. The thick texture made it a little hard to slather. It’d stick to her utensil and she found herself using her thumb to slide it off and onto the bread. Half of it stayed on her thumb, and having no napkin on hand, she resorted to licking the remnants of the paste from her thumb with a frustrated noise.</p><p>Mara looked up to find El staring at her again. “It won’t spread."</p><p>The smile from before tugged at his lips.</p><p>Mara rolled her eyes. "I'm not adding rezam to it. I don't care what you say." That oil tasted rancid.</p><p>"I wasn't thinking about that," he said. "I was thinking about your name. Mara."</p><p>She smiled at hearing him say it. "What about it?"</p><p>“I was just wondering...Mara is your real name.”</p><p>Mara nodded.</p><p>“Could I...use it? I mean obviously not in public,” he added quickly. “Between--”</p><p>“I wouldn’t have told it to you if I didn't--” His mouth on hers cut her off, cool and sweet from the drink, his hands at her shoulders. </p><p>She lifted her own hands to his hair, her mouth parting to deepen the kiss, her hands drifting down to palm his shoulders, his chest. Not a bad way to spend the hour until she had to go, and probably the best way to keep that cloud of dread that hung over them at bay. Mara slid her hands under the wrap of his tunic, across his skin, and let him pull her to his lap. </p><p>His lips were red and swollen, his hair a tousled mess by the time he pulled away to pant, "Let's fuck on the counter."</p><p>A laugh left her as she smoothed her hand down, inching under the waistband of his leggings and underclothes. The apartment was so tiny it would have to be either the converted sofa or the counter. He felt warm and heavy, pleasant to the touch. "Can I use my mouth instead?" </p><p>A small crease formed between his brows. "Why?"</p><p>Her cheeks flamed up. It hadn't gone that well last time...Mara fought a cringe. "Not if -- that's okay." She withdrew her hand, or meant to before he caught it. "Let's fuck on the counter." She darted forward to kiss him. </p><p>He kissed her back a bit distractedly. "Not if what?"</p><p>She flashed him a tight smile. Shouldn't have said anything. "Well, it didn't go so well last time…"</p><p>He squinted. "Last time?"</p><p>Mara's muscles bunching in embarrassment. "At the hut."</p><p>He blinked at her. "Oh," he said after a moment. She had the sense he didn’t remember. "We can try again."</p><p>"But what about you?" she retorted, aggravated by the deference. "Doesn't have to be what I want, should be about what you want too."</p><p>He chuckled. "So we can fuck on the table or you can suck my cock?" </p><p>She wrinkled her nose at him. “Don't be crude.”</p><p>He let go of her hand to bring it around her shoulder and bent his head, forehead to hers, eyes shining with humor. “Which part?"</p><p>She made an exasperated noise, biting back her own answering smile. "I want to do something you like." As the words left her she thought, yes, that was it. "And we haven't...tried that."</p><p>El passed a hand through her hair and kissed her, slow and deliberate. He pulled away gently and tugged her with him to the sofa. </p><p>Impulsively, she turned to him, pressing a kiss to his lips as her hands went to the ties of his tunic. Several twists later, she was pushing it off his shoulders, brushing another kiss by the tan skin of his shoulder, along the scar just under his collarbone, by the hollow of his throat before turning her attention to his leggings and undergarments. She liked the play of firm muscle just under her hands, her lips, liked the scent of him, something faintly spicy and sweet she couldn't name that had grown familiar to her through the weeks, liked knowing that he liked it when she kissed the inside of his arm, his shoulder.</p><p>“What are you thinking?” she murmured.</p><p>His fingers played along her cheek, that soft smile making her insides squeeze. “That you said you wanted to touch me.”</p><p>“I did.” Dropping a soft kiss just under his navel, she slid the clothing down, lowering to a crouch as she did, gliding her hands down his thighs. There was no excess in him, only an economy of muscle. She supposed that's what a place like this did to people. “I’m happy you’re letting me.”</p><p>He made an amused sound as she rubbed her cheek against his thigh, wrapped a hand idly around his cock, hard in her hand, touching without any specific purpose but to feel him, a flutter in her belly at the last memory of the drag of him inside her. “I’ve liked everything we’ve done. Everything.”</p><p>His breathing hitched a little, but was otherwise soft and even. He leaned down to push several errant strands of her hair from her face. "Maybe on the couch?" </p><p>Mara looked up at him, her hand still on his cock. "Sure." She let him go and stood, yanking her boots and socks off, pulled off her own tunic. When she turned around El had gotten rid of his clothes and placed them on one of the chairs by the counter. He had returned and was looking on with so much interest, she threw him a smile. "Come help."</p><p>His hands went immediately to her bra, unclasping it, his hands curving around her naked breasts. </p><p>He was always so cautious and Mara thought, as she had last night, of the Palace. Her master did reward ambition, but there were also an assortment of codes and attitudes that all but guarantee success. </p><p>“You know you don’t have to ask or wait for an invitation with me, El."</p><p>El raised his eyes to her, his hands smoothing down her sides, thumbs passing over the hollows of her ribs. “It’s polite to ask for things.” They glided over the skin of her belly, met at the fastenings of her pants.</p><p>Just that touch made Mara want to close her eyes. “If you’re entitled to something, you take it."</p><p>“Wouldn’t that lead to trouble," a flick of his thumb and her fastenings loosened, "if someone doesn't agree?" El tugged them past her hips.</p><p>“You have to be sure that whatever you’re taking is yours to have. That's all." She shoved down her clothes, stepping out of them.</p><p>He went to sit on the sofa and she caught his scowl when he glanced at the brace. Mara quickly averted her eyes and dropped to her knees in front of him. When she lifted her head, his eyes were on her again, a flash of something she couldn’t interpret in his expression. </p><p>“What is it?” </p><p>He looked a bit wary all of a sudden. “Nothing. Actually..." He tugged at her, pulling her astride him. His hands splayed up her back, up her nape as he kissed her, stroked along her sides, as he pressed lips to the side of her neck.</p><p>She snaked a hand behind her, between his legs, palming him. “Wait, does this mean you <i>don’t</i> want me to suck your cock?"</p><p>He huffed a laugh, dropped a quick kiss by her jaw. “Oh, I'm a bad influence."</p><p>“Stop." Mara swatted at him.</p><p>He bent down, lips playing over one nipple and she arched her back. El took the invitation, closing his lips around her other nipple. Her fingers threaded themselves into his hair as he applied firm pressure, all of it shooting through her nerves to her core, her hips canting.</p><p>That...could steer her off. But no. She gave his cock a firm squeeze. “You’re derailing me,” she half-panted. A playful glint made his eyes bright. </p><p>Mara shook her head at him as she moved off him. A very attractive flush had risen on his face. “I think you should lie back.”</p><p>El did so, the movement slightly awkward due to the brace. He shifted his left leg up bending it, opting to leave his right dangling from the sofa. </p><p>Mara climbed up again, once he reached for her, an arm wrapping around her back. She straddled his waist, spreading her palms, she glided them up his chest. She leaned down to kiss down his sternum, turned her head to lick around the edges of his nipple, dared a nip to his quick intake of breath. </p><p>Smoothing her hands down his arms, she repeated the same with his other then continued brushing her lips across his skin. His touch was at her shoulder, when she trailed open mouthed kisses along his side, down the long scar there, nosing along his ribs. She felt the play of his finger at the shell of her ear, a barely there touch as she kissed along his ribs again.</p><p>Like mapping his body with her mouth, she thought, feeling warm. Bodies had always been vulnerable things to her, but this was altogether different, cataloguing susceptibility not as weakness. </p><p>To me, she thought. Susceptibility to <i>me</i>, and that was dizzying knowledge. She nuzzled along his belly, feeling his abdominals tense. The flush had made it down to his chest, and she simply had to slink up for another kiss, far less restrained than the last. </p><p>"Stop distracting me," she breathed with a smile.</p><p>"Me?" The innocent facade would have worked better if his face hadn't been that flushed, his eyes that dark. She shimmied back past his thighs, settling between his legs, his scent more pronounced. It <i>was</i> different to focus on him this narrowly. Without waiting she grasped his cock and slowly licked from root to tip, pleased by his gasp, the salt of him. She did it again. </p><p>She didn’t want to make another mistake. Mara looked up. “Anything specific you want?”</p><p>El chuckled, raising up on his forearms. “It’s all sensitive. Whatever you do will be good.” She gave him a skeptical look. He reached with one hand to rub her shoulder. “I’ll let you know. I will.”</p><p>“Unhelpful,” she chided, hearing him chuckle again as she went back and tried shorter, more aggressive licks, slid her mouth down on him. </p><p>He gasped again, which was good, but he whispered, “Wait, wait. Build up to it. Use your tongue again.”</p><p>She did as he asked, pulling off to lick at the underside of his cock with the tip of her tongue. “Like that,” a shiver ripples through her at his whisper, and she mouthed up. “Little more." She tried the flat of her tongue next. "A tease, but it feels good.” </p><p>He’d brought his other hand in play, sinking his fingers into her hair. Mara could feel the pads of them along her scalp. His breathing had sped up slightly and she squirmed a little, a bit surprised at how fast her own pulse had started to race.</p><p>“You can try more,” El’s free hand guided hers to a slow stroke and another, “And with your mouth.” She tried her mouth on him again, as she stroked and he groaned, the sound making more heat wash over her.</p><p>“Your mouth is incredible,” El crooned. She shifted, tightening her thighs wanting some sort of friction, even while she aimed to keep up an even stroke along with her mouth on him. He must have noticed because he asked, “Turns you on?”</p><p>Mara hummed in assent around him and he gasped. </p><p>"You can put your legs here," he offered. "Let me lick you while --"</p><p>At that, Mara pulled off though she kept stroking him. "You'd only make me come," she gave a shake of her head with a small smile. "And I want to get this right. Keep telling me."</p><p>El chuckled. "I love licking you."</p><p>"Why?"</p><p>"How you sound," he breathed, hips jutting slightly, twitching against her hand, his cock slippery wet, not just from her saliva, from how much he wanted her, how good she was making him feel. Was it like that for him all those times with her? She wanted to do more.</p><p>"Like you want it enough not--" That ache in her core spread as much for his words as for their dreamy cadence, the tension in El’s body. She could feel him getting harder and clenched her thighs again, frustrated, but caught up in wanting to see this through.</p><p>“Not to care--” </p><p>He broke off with a cry when she took him into her mouth this time, eyes fluttering shut, and it was a closed circuit, him to her. Desperation had her moaning around him in her mouth, bringing a hand between her legs.</p><p>“Oh,” he panted. “That help?” She raised her eyes to meet his, finding El staring at her hungrily. “Your fingers in your pussy?"</p><p>Mara felt herself flush, and sure, part of it was the obscenity, the wetness coating her fingers as she ran them lazily across her clit while she had El's cock in her mouth, the sticky hot feeling that traveled up her back and back down between her thighs.</p><p>"Can you make yourself come while sucking my cock?” She didn’t think so, but goosebumps broke across her skin anyway at the tawdry image it conjured, and she moaned again.</p><p>"You don't have to," he continued in that easy tone just above a whisper, "You can ride me again. Or--"</p><p>Mara inhaled through her nose and swallowed him down further, slowly, feeling his hands tighten in her hair as she bobbed up just as slowly. She pulled her hand away from herself to keep her focus. </p><p>“Oh, that--that’s good. Your mouth is so good,” he hissed in a breath. "I want to lick your ass again. Like -- Bestine. You came just...from that. Never seen-- oh."</p><p>And she wanted to take all of him -- wasn’t that what they did all those scarlet holos? Mara slid her mouth down further. His cock hit the back of her throat and he cried out, but she had to break eye contact to try to clamp down on her gag reflex or at least keep it quiet. El squeezed her shoulder hard enough to bruise for an instant before quickly letting go. </p><p>Maybe he didn’t notice, maybe he’d strain against her, fuck her mouth, but he pushed at her shoulder a little. Mara’s stomach sank. </p><p>"Hey," he rasped, "you don't--" Like last time, she grew cold with embarrassment and bobbed back up, wondering if she should pull off entirely, but he only said, “Can you -- tease a little more?”</p><p>He wasn't writing her off. All right. Mara went back to leisurely licks, returned to a slow stroke of her hand, found his breathing changed when she took the tip of him into her mouth in tandem with her strokes, when she swirled her tongue against the slit. He must like that. She wasn't being terrible, surely.</p><p>“That’s it,” El murmured, fingers tracing her cheek. “Can you look up? I miss looking at you.”</p><p>She lifted her eyes to meet his over her, finding it more difficult now after being so clumsy.  El's eyes were set on her with the same hungry glint, no hint she'd done anything out of step. "No, don't look away. You're so pretty. That's old news, isn't it? That you're pretty? Gorgeous. You hear it all the time, I bet.” </p><p>Not like that though, never like that, between shuddering breaths, El's touch soft against her temple, her cheek, his pleasure-soaked gaze squarely on her. Her earlier faux pas flitted from her head. </p><p>"Because of you," she found herself blurting out, emboldened. "At Bestine. It felt so good because it was you."</p><p>Something in his expression changed, his gaze losing some of it's haze. "Yeah?"</p><p>Mara nodded. "I would let you do anything to me." She kept her hand on his cock as she lowered her head to mouth messily at it. "Anything." Mara bent her head, giving him a light suck.</p><p>El moaned and she drew away slightly, enough to let his cock slide out wetly from her mouth. She shifted up so his cock dragged against her breast, leaving a trail of saliva and pre-come. The way El's eyes tracked down made her want her hand between her legs again. Badly.</p><p>"Any...<i> filthy</i> thing you might want to do to me. I would let you," Mara said, wetting her lips. A thrill pulsed low in her belly. At the way he looked at her? At the fact that it was true? She couldn't tell.</p><p>She took him into her mouth again, as he stared rapt, eyes fluttering, letting out a hiss from between his teeth when she sucked. A few seconds later she pulled off. </p><p>"I would love it." She liked the sound of her voice, here, like this, sultry and certain. "Because it's you."</p><p>She closed her lips around him again, and he moaned loudly, fingers curling in her hair, his hips not quite thrusting up, the movement half halted by a squirm. El moaned again as she went back to her long strokes, the swirl of her tongue at the head, feeling the strain in his thigh, wishing he weren’t quite so restrained--</p><p>He whined something she couldn’t understand and then, "Stop-stop-stop.”</p><p>Mara pulled off. “Did I do--”</p><p>"Let’s fuck." He tugged her up for another kiss. </p><p>She obliged, albeit reluctantly, a bit self conscious of the mess on her face. "Am I doing okay?"</p><p>His laugh was more like a wheeze. "Isn't it obvious?"</p><p>She wiped her face and half shrugged, a slight smile snaking across her lips. "I like the validation."</p><p>El kissed her again. "We should fuck," he traced the undercurve of her breast, expression some mix of aroused and amused. "I can't really touch you when you’re all the way down there."</p><p>She pouted. "I want to make you come."</p><p>"Sure," he grinned, dropping a hand to squeeze her ass,  "Come on. Up."</p><p>“With my mouth.” Mara added emphatically, "I want to finish you off--” she lifted a hand as his expression tipped into fully amused, scooting back to his cock before he could open his mouth. “You are <i>not</i> giving me grief right now--”</p><p>“Finish--ohh.” There was something to derailing <i>him</i> for once in this, she thought smugly. And <i>teasing</i>, right, so Mara threw her attention to faint licks along his cock, angled her head to lick at his sac. He moaned and she experimented with a light suck -- that drew out a whine.</p><p>Before she could stop and ask, he’d pulled her hand up to a slow stroke up his cock. “Your mouth there and…” She licked at him again.</p><p>"Yeah," he moaned, his fingers sinking into her hair, eyes not leaving her face. "Like that."</p><p>Mara went for heavier, messier licks, tonguing at his sac, lower, while keeping a slow stroke along his cock. Her coordination wasn’t the best, but she fell into step, her pulse thrumming, following his moans.</p><p>“You...” he garbled something she couldn't make out, between labored breaths, "You do it like -- you do-- you like this."</p><p>He shoved up into her hand with a reedy moan. Stars, no, she didn’t mind the sloppiness at all, the obscenity of it was beyond exciting, another dirty secret just between them. </p><p>"Oh, because it's me." She comes back up, draws him into her mouth, expecting his shallow thrust. “Yeah, that’s --” Her hand stroked up and she had it, a pattern, had him, while he gasped and tensed, nonsense words clipping. "Fuck. Like that. Fas--oh, keep -- yeah. ” </p><p>Mara's own pulse hammered, her own hips pushing against nothing. El’s eyes had fluttered closed, eyebrows creased at the stroke of her hand, the swirl of her tongue along the tip.</p><p>"You--you...drive me crazy.” His breathing had grown as harsh as last time, his movements less controlled. All it took was a little more focus, a little more awareness of the rhythmn of her hand, the flick of her tongue.  “I...I can't think right.” His hand was digging into the sofa. She could make this better for him. She could. </p><p>“All...all I can think…” Mara slid her mouth further down on his cock, clutching his thigh, his skin burning to the touch. </p><p>“I don’t have -- I <i>can’t</i> have," he broke off with a groan, his hips shifting restlessly, left heel sliding beside her. </p><p>“You -- oh,” El moaned again, his hips jolting, pushing him deeper into her mouth, and while not exactly comfortable, this time she didn't gag. His hips found a rhythm, thrusts short, and she dared to reach with her free hand down to his sac to cup him as his hips rolled.</p><p>He hissed something she couldn’t make out and just a few thrusts after, wrapped his hand around hers in a tighter grip, hips thrusting harder against it. She thought to pull off and just focus on the strokes of her hand, but he moaned out a mindless protest at her slight movement, his hand briefly touching her shoulder before returning to the side of the sofa. </p><p>"Oh, I--” he broke off with another louder moan. He had to be close; he’d had that same tension all those times she’d seen him come. </p><p>Mara set to it, ignoring the ache in her jaw, all the excess saliva, until he let out a whine, his movements growing shakier, hips twitching as he came, the salt of him thick in her mouth, almost too much. Her whole body felt charged, staticky, when she straightened up, wiping at her face. </p><p>Crawling up she found him bleary-eyed, his chest heaving with his breaths. She didn’t wait for his daze to pass, ceding to that odd euphoric feeling, and pressing kisses to his neck, satisfaction a bright flare in her chest. He tugged at her for a clumsy kiss, his hand at her thigh and no, she didn't want to build up to a shock of arousal right now, didn't need it. She clasped his hand with hers instead, squeezing it tight and pulled it away to kiss at his throat, his chin, his jaw, his cheek.</p><p>“Later,” she whispered by his ear. “I can wait.”</p><p>“You don’t have to,” El wrapped an arm around her. “Mara.”</p><p>Mara closed her eyes, wanting to just linger in the feeling, in the way he said her name, the comfortable way his arm fit around her. She nestled herself against him, nuzzling just under his ear, reminded of the hut, that luxurious sense of having nothing but time. </p><p>“No.” Mara reached to cup El's cheek, pushing a pang that had surfaced aside. “I'm fine right now. Really.” She pressed her face into his shoulder and sighs when he brought his other arm around her. They had this still. She shouldn’t let it weigh her down just yet. </p><p>She'd finish this job and before she left she'd make sure he had proper identifications set up. With those in hand, El could apply again to the academy. There were people in court to whom she could ingratiate herself to fast track his application. </p><p>But even if this were to work, she might not see him for years. Military schools had strict rules about fraternization and exposure at the wrong time could be dangerous.</p><p>It would be worth it for a future. </p><p>El brushed a kiss by her shoulder. “Sounds like you need convincing."</p><p>There were many who routinely mixed work with pleasure. She’d held them in contempt, but she hadn’t understood, had she?</p><p>"No,” Mara said softly. “The office is probably open. I know you said that thing back there near Motesta was just the desert, but I don't feel good going blind. I'll go to the office," she swallowed, this was really the best choice, "then I'll head on to the salt flats and ask my questions and come back. Shouldn't take that long."</p><p>El stiffened, his expression shuttered. "It won't be long, El," she added quickly. "I don't want it to be any longer than it has to be --can't imagine I'll hear any different from what I find at the Bureau."</p><p>But El let her go and shifted away from her to stand. The lightness never seemed to last. Not anymore.</p><p>"Faster I go, faster I get back," she still said, hearing an odd pleading note in her voice, her stomach doing a painful clench. They had such little time left. </p><p>He went for his clothes.</p>
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<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Chapter 23</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Wishing all happy &amp; safe holidays!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"El," Mara leaned back against the sofa, made her tone cajoling. The silence as he dressed wore at her. “It’s bad enough we had to come here...I think it’s best given the leg--”</p><p>“If that’s the excuse.” El had gotten his underwear and leggings back on and was shrugging on the tunic.</p><p>“What excuse?” She frowned at him, finally standing and going for her own clothing. “Anything happens over there and you’re at a disadvantage.”</p><p>“Yes,” he nodded in that casual way of his, not fooling her for a second, “because I’m a liability. Like you said.” He wasn’t even looking at her as he tied the sash in quick, tight movements.</p><p>“That’s not it.” She dressed quickly and reached for him. “It’s that you’re hurt--”</p><p>“You can stop pretending this is about me,” he said flatly, lifting his chin.</p><p>"Of course it's about you.” Mara spread her hands. How could it be about anything else? “You're hurt."</p><p>"You've been wanting to go off on your own for days!" he snapped.</p><p>She drew back, confused at the sudden outburst. “What?”</p><p>“And I thought,” he continued quickly, “that maybe it’s because that's what you thought you should do. That it was because of your boss,” he made a dismissive gesture, “or guardian or master or whatever. But I was just being stupid, wasn’t I? So don’t be a blasted coward about it.”</p><p>"A coward about what? El, if I had wanted to leave, I wouldn't have spent two days--”</p><p>“Playing at gallantry, right? Because you feel guilty.” He gestured to his leg.</p><p>“No!” Her own words thrown at her stung -- it’d just been something stupid she’d said at Bestine, and she felt responsible, but it wasn't like that. “No, El. It was the least I could do--”</p><p>“Oh, obligation,” he went towards his boots, “Much better.”</p><p>“No! No, what?” Mara's head was spinning. “How could you--”</p><p>“You’re making it very clear where you stand.”</p><p>“Where I stand on what?” He couldn’t seriously think that. He was misreading her on purpose. “Wanting you to be safe? To not kriff up your leg further? They said--”</p><p>“Faster that happens, faster you can add it to your repertoire of stories at court or whatever. That time you went slumming it in the Outer Rim.”</p><p>She gaped for a second. What the hell? And then it all fell into place.</p><p>“Wait, wait, wait this is about you." She jabbed her index finger at him. Hadn't she known? "You've been sullen about getting hurt practically since it happened. What, you think you’re the only one who’s had setbacks? This shavit happens all the time in what I do. And you know what? That leg’s not the liability, it’s your kriffing tantrum about it.”</p><p>“A setback? You think this is a kriffing setback?" El fumed, continuing to lace up his boots. "You would know from your cushy palace--"</p><p>"Palace?” Mara leaned forward, incredulous. “I’ve spent months in a bacta tank. Months," she enunciated, "Because the whole upper left side of my body wouldn't work right after an assessment.” With each word, she could hear her voice rising. “Every single damn thing I have --" she was shouting now, like she'd never had before, a scorching stream of heat rising from her middle to her throat, “I've fucking earned!”</p><p>"Oh, I'm sure," he snapped back. "You earned everything -- from your private lessons to that lights--"</p><p>"You don't know a damn thing about what I do!" She slapped a hand on the counter. "<i>I</i> wasn't wasting my time crying about the nobodies who left me!"</p><p>"No, you traded them for your boss, or wait your guardian or wait your master, you sound like a blasted spaceport cultist.”</p><p>"You have no idea what you're talking about.” Her nails bit into her hands from how tightly she was clenching her fists, that searing feeling in her middle making her shake. “Don’t--”</p><p>"Because he's so powerful and cares,” El spit out the words. “ He sent you here and you don't even know what you're doing half the time."</p><p>He was insane. "<i>You</i> don’t know what you’re doing most of the time!” </p><p>“At least I don’t parade around like I’m untouch--”</p><p>“Are you kidding me?” she faked a chuckle and it came out shrill. “You’re <i>limping</i> and still--”</p><p>He let out an ugly laugh. “You can add pity fucking to your list of things you tried.”</p><p>Mara snatched the object closest to her and threw it across the room. She’d only registered she’d done it when El sidestepped and her datapad collided with the door - <i>bang</i> - before it cluttered to the ground with a pathetic clank. She flinched at that. Pathetic, just like her every single second she listened to this drivel. Every second she let it have any sort of effect on her. She'd heard worse, <i>said</i> worse during all those self critique sessions they'd had her go through -- in front people whose judgement <i>actually</i> mattered. </p><p>This was triffling.</p><p>El had closed his eyes with a pained grimace. “Wait, look I--”</p><p>But she was already tossing her satchel over her shoulder. “A first rate asshole on a tenth rate planet," she muttered. "Who knew.” </p><p>"Ar-Mara, you're right. I shouldn't have said that -- that was -- I'm sorry." He took a step towards her as she picked up the datapad. Pity she’d missed.</p><p> "Wait, please I--"</p><p>"One more step and you'll regret it." Sliding the datapad into her bag, she raised her eyes.  "Fucking try me."</p><p>El stayed where he was. "Mara--"</p><p> Mara hit the door release. “You know where your credits are.” </p><p>She heard the it hiss shut as she climbed up the stairs, exiting to the street. Pedestrians milled about at a higher volume than before and she narrowly avoided crashing into a couple as she stormed over to the nearby garage where she'd parked the landspeeder. Opening the door, she all but flung her satchel at the passenger side.</p><p>El shouldn't have come with her in the first place, and she’d known that. Mara double checked the location of the Housing Bureau. It was a few streets away at what amounted to the center of the New Quarter -- behind the Corporation section, somewhat adjacent to the garrison. Mara set off in it's direction, piloting through the winding streets, swerving by slower vehicles and the groups of sentients that spilled from the buildings to the streets. </p><p>"This is a security checkpoint. Please wait with documents and permissions ready," the automated announcement at the checkpoint blared over and over and Mara slowed down to join the line. "Failure to comply with the directives issued by security personnel will result in detainment."</p><p>Mara slumped on her seat. At least it looked like the line was moving quickly. There were only a couple of speeders in front of her.</p><p>"I live on that side!" A yell forced Mara's attention on the scene. "You've already looked at my identicard. What else do you want?"</p><p>"We need to search your vehicle," the stormtrooper's flat voice recited. "Step aside. If you don't cooperate you will be assumed to--"</p><p>"You already checked it!"</p><p>"Step aside."</p><p> I can't believe this shavit--" The green-skinned Devaronian male's complaint ended with a cry as the stormtrooper slammed his blaster at the side of his head, throwing him down. That should have been the end of it, but no, the Devaronian kept making a fuss, screaming from his sprawled position on the sand. Mara could feel the stormtrooper’s animosity and wariness kick up.</p><p>Mara frowned. That was excessive. Both the civilian <i>and</i> the stormtrooper. She could read the way it would go, the Devaronian would rise, the stormtrooper would  aim, the inevitable shot for attempting assault. These things happened all the time and a few factions believed these to be acceptable uses of force, one life to guarantee order and a baseline respect for authority. To actually sit and witness such a thing felt different -- Mara found herself darting out of the speeder as the Devaronian stood, and called out a sharp “Hey!” as the stormtrooper lifted his rifle.</p><p>"Stop right there!" Another stormtrooper shouted beside her. </p><p>"Imperial agent Level K-12, Recognition code Hapsir Barrini.” She didn't spare him a glance. “Point that blaster away. You!” she directed herself to the first stormtrooper who was now looking in her direction. “Give me his identifications," she said when she'd gotten to him, extending a hand.</p><p>The stormtrooper simply stared. She felt the other one step out beside her. “She’s K-12,” he told him.</p><p>Mara fought the urge to pull at her headscarf. This shavit might be common in this nowhere city, but she didn’t have to let it happen <i>right in front of her</i>, cover or no cover. The first stormtrooper immediately handed her a small datapad, confusion rising from him.</p><p>She grabbed the datapad and raised her head to the Devaronian standing by his speeder. It wouldn’t bode well for him if he continued pushing his luck, but as usual with aliens she couldn’t read much beyond puzzlement from him. “You get back into your vehicle and follow me.”</p><p>“Ma’am?” the first stormtrooper called. The second trailed her as she heard the Devaronian make a beeline for his speeder.</p><p>Mara didn’t answer, striding back to her speeder.</p><p>“Is he--” started the second stormtrooper beside her.</p><p>“I have no further use for you.” Mara scanned ahead to where the Devaronian waited in his speeder and started up the repulsors. “Thank you for your cooperation.”</p><p>She plunged straight ahead. A few streets away in a discreet alley from the checkpoint, she lined up the speeder and gestured for the Devaronian to stop. </p><p>“About time. I waited more than an hour in that anooba and ronto show," he snapped as she got out of the speeder, "You tell Jabba," he continued testily as he approached her, "he needs--"</p><p>According to her training, Devaronians had denser, heavier bodies than humans, which meant that when Mara swept a leg across his, while yanking at the neck of his tunic, his momentum as he tripped helped her slam him down over the hood of her speeder with a hard <i>bam</i>. She jammed her holdout to the back of his skull to keep him there as he yelped.</p><p>"Tell Jabba <i>what</i>?" </p><p> Of course this loudmouth would end up being yet another scum-sucking criminal. This shavit city. She should have let the stormtrooper punch a blaster hole in him. Heaven only knew what he was smuggling.</p><p>"Oh," the Devaronian forced a laugh. "Nothing! Th--thank you. Tell him thank you!"</p><p>He was her problem now. "What are you moving?"</p><p>The Devaronian stiffened. "Is that really your business? Jabba--"</p><p>"I'm <i>making</i> it my kriffing business," she growled. If it were explosives or a vicious weapon, she'd have to take care of it quick. "You choose how we do this."</p><p>"Shit," he hissed. "Okay. It's in my tunic."</p><p>Mara stepped back, holdout still on him. "Any sudden moves and I'm vaping you."</p><p>He nodded once and slowly removed a small case from his tunic about as long as her palm.</p><p>"Hands up. Kick it to me."</p><p>The Devaronian did ask she asked and she carefully squated to pick it up thinking it resembled a cigarra case. "What is it?" A glance showed her it had a button on the side. </p><p>"Sasana spice shards. This week's re up. He's not gonna be happy if it doesn't make it."</p><p>Mara shot him a glare.</p><p>"Just saying," he added.</p><p>Mara pressed the button, relieved, and found a smaller glass box with what looked like crystals, glinting in the light. "You sell in this section?"</p><p>He smiled shakily. "Only the best for the best."</p><p>She was tempted to palm the spice and get rid of it, but that would be foolish. With a grunt she tossed it back at the Devaronian, who scrambled to catch it. Reaching for his datapad on her seat, she flung it at his feet, too. “Get out of here.”</p><p>“Hey,” he called as she was getting back in her speeder. “Your credits!”</p><p>And that was enough for the shavit day this was gearing up to be, so she fired up the repulsors, thinking of the impromptu market and all its contraband. Not only were the local authorities apparently trigger happy, they were unbelievably incompetent. What was the point in enforcing the Old Quarter and New Quarter division, the aggravation of the checkpoints, if the Hutt could still move his people and illicit material that easily to and from each side?</p><p>No wonder a Jedi could simply hide here and stroll out with impunity whenever they pleased.</p><p>Mara pulled into the section that housed the Bureau and other governmental buildings. She shouldn’t return to Mos Eisley at all. She should spend the night at Anchorhead and take a transport back to Mos Espa once she'd gotten her information. As rank as that city was, it wasn’t the cesspit that this one was.</p><p>Mara left the speeder at a nearby lot and walked out, the suns blazing down at her. The sight of the administrative buildings with their wide sandstone facades, their smooth domes, made her lips tighten. They comprised the heart of the city’s administration. To think the Hutt moved his people <i>here</i> and back should be an outrage. </p><p>On her way up the steps Mara could see a couple of lines that circled outside the other buildings sentients gathered en masse under the punishing suns. Those had to be a sundry of registries, judging from the motley crowd.  The Housing Bureau, being mostly a record-holding facility, was nearly empty though.</p><p>It was good that El had his fit,  Mara thought. She had priorities and for too long she’d been embarrassing herself. Her spine went tight. What had she been doing for the past days? Degenerating into some cheap vac brained holodrama protagonist. Disgusting.</p><p>The mid-morning sun barged in through the wide carved windows of the lobby. No sumptuous rugs or artwork decorated it, only a wide reception desk, but the cooling unit was cranked high enough to make the air frigid. The Imperial crest loomed large on the wall behind it and Mara felt her shoulders relax. The two stormtroopers stationed at the entrance as well as the two overseeing the largely empty security line didn’t give her a second look.</p><p>El hadn’t even told her <i>his</i> name. She’d known that he used a fake from the get go and still made a total fool of herself. Completely.</p><p>Mara flashed her clearance, already loaded into her datapad, at the two in charge of the security line and strode forward. The stone-wrought front desk was staffed by three or four ancient looking models of receptionist droids. She supposed that too counted for an official air here. Mara showed them her clearance as well, and was directed to a room on the third level, reachable via turbolift and a short walk down a cavernous corridor. </p><p>This room smelled stagnant, probably because it had no windows, the illumination limited to glow lamps on the walls. It had a brown threadbare rug that covered most of it. Mara approached the much smaller desk at the front and inquired to yet another receptionist droid about the property history files for the Lars family, catching sight of an older human woman at the back engrossed in her datapad.</p><p>She head out this afternoon, Mara decided as the droid went for her files. After she finished here. Like she planned. Not as far as the salt flats -- they were too far for piloting a speeder at night, but Anchorhead wasn't. It'd be a perfect midway point. She could stay the night, go to the salt flats in the morning. Someone had to know <i>something</i> she could report.</p><p>The droid returned with a datacard box and she was free to peruse the material at her leisure at the tables further into the room. Mara stepped in, passing shelves of datacards, no other being but her in the room as far as she could see. Picking an unobtrusive table, Mara sat down, pulled out her datapad and slid the chip in.  </p><p>El would probably kriff his leg without her, the thought popped into her head as the information booted. She’d caught him fiddling with the brace like an impatient child two times now. What did he think that would accomplish? That was just his problem. Maturity. All she knew of him bore it out. He hadn't understood he could just wait for an acceptance to the Academy and leave this forsaken sand pit that way. Instead, he'd probably tantrumed just like he had right now, ran away, leaving everything behind, threw his entire future in the trashbin.  Whatever. No longer her problem.</p><p>On her datapad the index came up, numerous official documents organized by date, deeds, licenses, a couple of official reports from the local garrison.</p><p><i>He</i> hadn’t considered it trouble, had he? She’d given up two days of her mission and he’d treated it as if it were nothing.</p><p>She brought her attention back to the documents. This was not the time to ruminate on El’s stupidity. Much more important things awaited her attention. <i>She</i> wasn’t wasting her time pitying herself. </p><p>Mara selected the last document. The year’s land survey summary, designating the Lars property abandoned. It referenced another file. Mara clicked the connective that led her to it. A scouting report filed by the Mos Eisley garrison opened. The fire at the Lars property had not, in fact, been an accident. Mara straightened up, eye pouring over the description.</p><p>According to the files, the Lars, Owen Lars and his wife, Beru Whitesun Lars, were victims of a particularly brutal attack by the Tusken Raiders in which the property had been set on fire. No reason was found for their attack which claimed the lives of the couple. The attack fit the Tuskens’ patterns and enmity between the Tuskens and Tatooinian colonials was nothing new. She continued reading. The Lars had a son, Luke Lars, the report said, who hadn’t been at the premises at the time and hadn’t yet returned by the time of the report’s filing. </p><p>Mara frowned. Her reports -- the ones she’d personally received from Commander Stansei over at Mos Espa’s garrison -- clearly stated the Lars had been executed for treason. The Housing Bureau’s report must be the cover up so as not to rouse suspicion in the area...and possibly create an environment where the son could return and be detained. </p><p>Mara leaned back on her chair. Cover ups were sometimes necessary. Civilians seldom understood the complexities in population management. That said, cover ups gave opportunists shadows from which to hide while pointing fingers. Given the loose ends in the Lars situation, Mara had to grudgingly agree that blaming the Tuskens was more shrewd than not. She’d have to keep this story in mind when she approached the other homesteads.</p><p><i>Were</i> Tusken attacks common at the salt flats? El hadn’t thought so and cited the concentration of moisture farms in the area, but he still didn’t know what the thing that attacked them was, so he might be overinflating his own knowledge of the area. </p><p>Mara felt her brows draw together. And that’s <i>exactly</i> what she should have told him when he tried to talk her out of coming here. Some guide.</p><p>Fuming, Mara went back to the files. She noted the Lars’ address and scanned the older documents. The farm had been in the family for a while -- belonging to Owen Lars’ father, a Cliegg Lars, before passing onto him. Mara supposed that was common. She found licenses for T-16 skyhopper, a V-35 Courier and an X-34 all listed under his name, bought used on credit, but quickly paid off. A vendor license for selling water confirmed that moisture farming had been their primary source of income, but who knew what the Rebellion had been fronting them.</p><p>El had mentioned an X-34 -- the model that preceded the X-38. He’d had one he'd sold it and hadn’t gotten much for. Probably stolen it from home when he ran away. He didn’t seem the type, but then again, desperation counted for a lot here, she thought back to the Rodian youngling and that pall of fear. Especially if he'd been... mistreated.  The thought gave her a weird feeling underneath her anger.  She could see the marks on El fingers in her memory, crude advertisement born out of the same desperation. Day work wasn't enough. Survival.</p><p>Mara scowled and willed herself to focus on the Lars’ documents. El’s background was none of her business. </p><p>This next report was far more cursory than the first. It detailed another attack near a good two decades before the one the first report described. The kidnapping of the elder Lars’ wife by the Tuskens. So there <i>was</i> some history to support the cover up, though of course a close look would reveal that there was considerable time lag between one attack and the purported second. Mos Eisley was probably more dangerous than the salt flats. Yet another reason to leave as soon as possible.</p><p>El <i>should</i> have the sense to stay away from the Old Quarter. But if he didn't have the sense not to pick a fight with her...What good would it do for him to join her anyway? Had he doubted she’d come back after going to the salt flats? Why? He couldn’t at this point. <i>She’d</i> never given him cause for any reason. </p><p>Mara put her datapad down with a huff. This had gone on long enough. She was here to research. So what if this was El’s tantrum had been about her leaving? It didn’t change the fact that he’d been unreasonable. </p><p>He <i>had</i> apologized. Started to anyway.</p><p>Had anyone wanted her company enough to be unreasonable about it?</p><p>Mara brought both hands to rub at her face. She didn't have <i>time</i> for this nonsense, and yet, here she was, mired in it like a lizard in mud. </p><p>She forced herself back to the files, copied the Lars’ address for herself, and the map listed. Local maps existed, but were discouraged for safety in a planet such as this with such a marginal Imperial presence compared to the Core. She circled the two nearest farms to the Lars in her copy of the map -- the Marstrap farm and the Darklighter farm. </p><p>And, fine, it hadn’t been reasonable to throw her datapad at him. Or threaten violence.</p><p>Mara winced. Was El back at the apartment already? Maybe they could go through this again in a more civil manner, and she could make him see that it was better for him to stay -- at the very least stay at Anchorhead -- and assure him, yet again, that she'd come back right after she was done.</p><p>She would have to leave not much longer than a day after closing her investigation. </p><p>Mara inhaled and closed her eyes. Focus. She gave one last scan at the documents and removed the chip. At the desk she asked for the chip on the Marstrap property. The financials for the Marstraps were more strained, she found. They had vendor licenses for garden produce, but substantial debt, including some to the Lars. No records of any attacks though.</p><p>She wasn’t focusing on the Marstraps, so after a cursory look, she turned the chip back in and asked for the Darklighters’. The documents within that particular chip were plentiful, mostly investments. They were certainly more well off by the looks of it than the Marstraps or the Lars. No records of attacks. No irregularities. After one final scan she turned that chip in too.</p><p>Mara checked her chrono as she walked down the corridor and rode the turbolift up back to the main level. What she should do was grab something to eat and head out to Anchorhead.</p><p>It was still early yet though, she could just down a ration bar then check on El. Her clothing and supplies were still at the apartment anyway. Besides, if he were there they could put this to rest and her focus would be back. Anchorhead wasn’t even that far. She could easily go grab her essentials, and get there in time to ask around about the homesteads. After first dawn, she could set out. The salt flats seemed safe enough and she could go see the state of the Lars' homestead, ask at the Marstraps and the Darklighters about its history and the missing son, be back after double noon. She and El could fly out to Mos Espa that evening, and have the next day all to themselves.</p><p>Her last day.</p><p>Mara got into the speeder on autopilot, and grabbed a ration bar from her bag, taking a bite. If he was gone, then she’d have no choice but to continue on to Anchorhead, then the salt flats. Her stomach did a painful flip. She shouldn’t return to Mos Eisley after that at all, just grab a transport from Anchorhead.</p><p>There'd be no reason to come back.</p><p>Mara started up the speeder, ration bar in hand. </p><p>Traffic in the New Quarter was heavy at this time. The checkpoint line moved twice as slowly. Mara’s chest felt tight as she waited, second after second ticking by. El -- he was just the type to -- and she slapped her hand with the ration bar on the controls. Enough.</p><p>What the kriff was wrong with her?</p><p>She was <i>completely</i> unfocused. Never in all her training, in her missions thus far had she been this distracted. </p><p> <i>She’s just a lovesick child with a blaster.</i> The Rodian doctor had said. </p><p>A lovesick child.</p><p>That alien hadn’t known a damn thing about her. The sudden sinking feeling in her stomach made her throw the half-eaten ration bar on the passenger seat. It was all ridiculous. Only about a minute later, her stomach started to hurt. Mara glanced at the discarded ration bar. She really should try to force it down. There were about five speeders in front of her. With a sigh, she reached back for it.</p><p>An eternity later, she was through the checkpoint and back at the apartment’s section. She wouldn’t let any discussion drag out too long, she vowed as the apartment complex came into view. It wasn't excessive. El just needed to be there. That was all. Everything could be put to rest if he were there.</p><p>If he weren’t--</p><p>Mara grabbed her satchel. <i>You know where your credits are</i>, she’d said, but it’d been spur of the moment. She hadn’t really meant it.</p><p>As Mara got out of the speeder she realized the back of her neck was tingling.</p>
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<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Chapter 24</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mara glanced about, going for her bag, stretching her senses. No one that she could see, but there was definitely a vigilant presence. Centered on her, but more than that was hazy. </p><p>Nonhuman.</p><p>A mugger? This <i>was</i> Mos Eisley.</p><p>No. She wouldn’t attract a mugger. She’d made sure nothing about her flagged before leaving the apartment this morning. And who would attempt a mugging with all the patrols around? </p><p>Except there were no patrols that she could see. Mara tapped her sleeve reflexively, her eyes still scanning. </p><p>Had they been <i>waiting</i> for her?</p><p>Here? In midday daylight with plenty of sentients around, with the <i>tak tak</i> of droid-pulled rickshaws around them? </p><p>Lowering her head, she hurried past several businesses, a gym with a couple of Weequay outside playing sabacc, a produce stand with overflowing hanging baskets, a store selling household items. Two Jawas walked past her, jibbering among themselves as she slowed down, catching her own reflection on a speeder's transparisteel. </p><p><i>There you are.</i> Well over two meters tall, half hidden between buildings, wearing a tan cloak so she couldn’t make out more than a roughly humanoid form. Large, too large. Did they know where she was staying?</p><p>Was El still at the apartment?</p><p>Had they happened on him when--</p><p>Mara ducked into a store selling fabrics, tamping on the violent jump in her chest. The alien kept the same conservative distance. She needed to circle back, close to the apartment, and see if she could sense El there. </p><p>The shopkeeper, a round-bellied Toydarian, approached, his insect wings buzzing lightly. Mara flicked for her holdout.</p><p>“Your back exit,” she said quietly.</p><p>He swooped back into the air when he saw her holdout. “Y-yes, this way.” </p><p>He whooshed past piles of fabrics into a darkened interior with a thick, pungent smell.  A smaller Toydarian was hovering about and startled at seeing Mara, spilling their drink. It yelled something at the shopkeeper in Huttese and he barked a response. Mara had already seen light streaming through an open doorway and bustled out.</p><p>The sounds of their bickering rose as she shot to the alley and turned the corner.</p><p>A couple of Neimodian females with baskets on their heads seemed to be the only beings in this narrower back street. Mara passed them quickly. Sweat dripped into her eyes, her tunic drenched in it. Mara’s neck tingled and she cursed under her breath. Stretching out with the Force, she could feel her pursuer. </p><p>A professional clearly. Blast it. </p><p>Jabba’s people had found her. </p><p>Mara reached out again as she plodded through the dusty streets. Same presence. She needed to check on El.</p><p>Mara veered between buildings, feeling her tail following, gaining on her. The area was unsettlingly empty, largely residential. No. She couldn’t bring her tail to the apartment. She needed to deal with them now. Footsteps thumped behind her. Too close. They wouldn't corner her.</p><p>Darting behind a large ore repository, Mara held her holdout close to her body and yanked her headscarf down. She wouldn't let them corner her.</p><p>Mara stepped out, weapon raised, and shot once. Her tail growled sharply and jumped back, the motion making its cloak fall open. </p><p>Black fur covered its massive, long-fingered paws and the rest of its enormous body. It wore a golden chest plate, the ends of its warrior braids covered in metal rings of the same color. The left eye in its dog-like face was bisected by a scar.</p><p>Mara’s breath stalled in her lungs. They’d sent a Wookiee after her.</p><p>A fucking Wookiee.</p><p>Two strides brought it close enough to reach for her. Mara dodged the long, hairy arm, firing another shot on instinct, her aim thrown off when she leapt back. Wookiees weren't easy to kill, but like most aliens, they were notoriously stupid, not fit for anything other than hard labor. No wonder her shot had done nothing. Her holdout wouldn't have the firepower for this kind of brute.</p><p>Wookiee growled, and lunged again.</p><p><i>The right weapon levels the playing field</i>. Mara reached for the lightsaber in her bag as she evaded yet another swipe from the Wookiee’s arm. Her weapon wouldn’t come easy. Stuck. </p><p>A nudge from the Force had Mara leaning away from the Wookiee’s grasp, his furry arm brushing her cheek, her hand still in her bag. Mara yanked harder, darted back to evade an actual swing. Her bag rolled off her arm and she let it go, lightsaber finally free. Mara flicked the activation switch as she slashed across. </p><p>The Wookiee snarled, twisting away as the lightsaber <i>snap-hissed</i> out. </p><p>Half of his arm went flying to the sound of his howl.</p><p>The Wookiee swept out his other arm. Pain exploded at Mara's side. She hit gravel and rolled. Sand crunched in her mouth. The lightsaber fell, and Mara reflexively extended a hand, grabbed it from the air.</p><p>Her whole side throbbing, she shot to her feet, lightsaber before her. A pull on the Force cleared her head and deadened the pain. The Wookiee reached for the bowcaster at his back as if his left arm wasn't a smoking stump. Kriffing aliens. </p><p>Mara slashed at the first projectile, the next, then darted forward to sweep her lightsaber out with a two-handed grip. Falling back several feet from the lightsaber’s reach, the Wookiee bared his teeth with a howl.</p><p>"I don't know who you are." She bared her own, kept her lightsaber in front of her. "But I’m an Imperial agent, you hear? Come after me and you'll lose more limbs, I promise." </p><p>Letting out a defiant growl, the Wookiee dropped his bowcaster, pulled out a blaster instead. Mara adjusted her stance. A loud crack rang out, followed by a sizzling sound as her lightsaber met the shot. </p><p>Pain blazed up through her arm, the surprise of it making Mara cry out. The Force had her  whirling to dodge the rushing Wookiee. Not a blaster. A kriffing scatter gun. Slug thrower.  </p><p>Mara stumbled away, threw herself behind an abandoned crate as more shots popped behind her. Holdout back in hand, she clipped off a couple of shots to buy seconds to think. She regretted the glance at her arm, slugs, even small ones like scatter pellets, were bloodier than bolts. At least with pellets it’d harder to bleed out. She yanked on the pain suppression technique, jammed the lightsaber to her belt clip, and bolted.</p><p>There wasn’t much use in running if he’d tracked her. Her weapons were the best bet. The only bet. </p><p>She turned into the street she'd come from. This was a patrolled area, the Wookiee wouldn't chase her out in the open -- especially not with that wound. Just this morning she’d seen stormtroopers here -- but now there was no white in the groups of sentients out in the street. She'd lost her headscarf at the alley, and dropped her head, slowed her walk. The Wookiee didn’t.</p><p>He gained quickly, through the clustered sentients like a vibroblade through flesh when she glanced back. Not a single patrol in sight before her. Mara broke into a jog then back into a run, sidestepping wary pedestrians and indifferent street traffic. Cries lifted behind her. The Wookiee would have no trouble plowing through sentients. She ran harder. </p><p>She'd reached the open courtyard, the threshold to the stairwell. <i>No, but El-- </i></p><p>He wasn't there. </p><p>Relief made her knees almost buckle, a second before a hard slam at her shoulder threw her forward, scatter pellets spraying the pourstone. Bits of it clouded up white above her. Mara's right foot slid down the step. She extended her good arm. Her fingers closed on the rail as she half fell. </p><p>More shots cracked behind her as she pulled back. No choice. Mara let go.</p><p>She rolled down, good arm raised in front of her head. Her shoulder hit a step wrong and sent white into her vision before going numb. She was at the landing now. </p><p>Shaking herself from her daze, Mara scrambled down to the door, falling again, a sudden stab at her hip, a burning pain. Her lightsaber -- where was it? She glanced back. A hulking, huffing shadow neared the top of the stairwell. </p><p>Mara dragged herself the two steps towards the door, hauled herself up with her good arm, bloody hand weakly slapping at the buttons. Her weapons bag was in the apartment. She burst in as soon as the door opened, hit the control for the locking mechanism just before careening down to the floor, that hot sear breaking out anew near her hip. </p><p>It threw her forward, and she dove, sliding, struggling towards the sofa. She yanked out the weapons bag she’d kept by the wall. Vibroblades and blasters clattered out. Something with sufficient firepower. Anything. Rifle. Like last time. She could do it like last time. </p><p>A crash at the door. </p><p>Her hands fumbled for the rifle case, her hold slippery with blood and sweat. Another crash. She went through the assembly to more blows to the door. Screech of metal. A shot. More agonized metal shrieking.</p><p>The rifle power dial said ten percent. </p><p>A bellow.</p><p>Twenty percent.</p><p>She wiped at the sweat pouring down her face, salt biting at the cuts on her hand.</p><p>Forty percent.</p><p>The side of it was pounded in. She could see dark fur outside. A flurry of movement. Glint of metal. That missing arm hadn’t even given the Wookiee pause. </p><p>Fifty percent. Mara willed the rifle to charge. She hated the sound of her labored breathing. </p><p>The door’s metal crunched as it gave way. </p><p>She had only a second to reach for the nearest alternate weapon -- taser stave. Thee hard pull of cloth burned against her neck as she was yanked up by her collar, lighten clean off the ground. Mara jerked, twisted in the Wookiee’s grasp, and activated the stave at full charge. She plunged it under his metal plate. </p><p>Electricity crackled blue, the distinct smell of singed fur filling the air, stinging her breath away, all other sounds drowned out by the Wookiee’s teeth-rattling roar. </p><p>Mara floated weightless for a second. </p><p>She crashed.</p><p>Pain, dull and white. She'd hit something and her lungs couldn’t take in air. Her chest hurt. No. Everything hurt. Mara rolled and lost sense again.She had the pain suppression technique on, didn’t she? Not anymore.</p><p>Get up, she thought. Her mouth tasted like metal. She forced herself to turn, felt a mass of blood in her mouth, spat it out, and tried again. </p><p>Her body wouldn't cooperate.</p><p>More roaring rang out at a distance. Her vision fuzzed like a faulty transmission, the off white of the floor blurring with the puddle of blood by her hands, staticky at the edges. At the distance something crashed. Darkness slid over her vision, then away, leaving her seeing as if through  murky water. Only darkening pourstone around her. Cold under her cheek. Wet.</p><p>She couldn’t pass out. She couldn’t. </p><p>She needed to...To what? Everything hurt. Mara tried again to move. A moan from her lips. Focus. Focus. She couldn't. </p><p>The Force. She needed to reach it. Grasp and hold. Just like her master had taught her. </p><p>Through the Force, a form suddenly stood out to her, a tangle of urgency, and fear -- </p><p>El. Near.</p><p>No, no, no. </p><p>He couldn't. He couldn't. She took a shaky breath at the blinding panic, the jolt of adrenaline through her overtaxed system. Mara closed her eyes, forced herself to pull air into her aching sternum. Everything hurt. </p><p>Stay away. Stay away. </p><p>Please.</p><p>She was on the floor, a few feet from the counter. Mara tried again to get to her hands and knees, but her arms weren’t responding. Hairy feet came into view. The worst part wasn’t even dying on this nowhere planet, bested by a kriffing <i>animal</i>.</p><p>El. </p><p>She spit again the taste of blood out of her mouth. Jabba would kill him too.</p><p>Stay away, she thought at El. Why was he closer? Stay away.</p><p>He wasn't like her, like her master. He wouldn't hear.</p><p>Maybe if the Wookiee ended her quickly, he’d leave none the wiser about El’s involvement. But the Wookiee didn’t strike. What was he doing? </p><p>The seconds lengthened. The Wookiee put something on the floor next to her. Holoprojector. He pressed a button. A ghostly blue-tinged figure materialized, an oversized slug, the name for the species escaped her. </p><p>El was too close. He needed to go away. </p><p>The slug spoke but Mara couldn't understand. He laughed too, a slow stupid sound.</p><p>El was closer. Much. He couldn't be closer. He shouldn't have come back. </p><p>Should have never been here.</p><p>"The Mighty Jabba the Hutt salutes your bravery, thief," the clipped tones of a protocol droid's Basic came through the transmission, though the droid itself remained unseen. "Not many would dare steal from him so brazenly. His Exaltedness would like to express his gratitude. You have brought several deficiencies in his organization to his attention. This is why he is generously granting you a quick death at the hands of Black Krrsantan, one of his best bounty hunters -- after you tell him where Jabba’s property can be found. Should you decide not to cooperate, Black Krrsantan has been instructed to persuade you by any means he deems necessary. The Merciful Jabba hopes you will cooperate and understand the honor you've been granted."</p><p>Mara laughed darkly, a hiccupy sound that ripped through her insides. She tried rolling with her body, the half motion making her head swim, vision juddering, but she could see the Wookiee now.</p><p>And he could see her.</p><p>More nonsense rang out. And then the protocol droid's translation: "Where is the stolen object?"</p><p>Mara grimaced a smile. <i>Fuck you.</i> The Wookiee read it right. She guessed after losing an arm, he was not in a mood to follow orders. He lifted his foot over her--</p><p>A scream tore through the air, loud and startling, incandescent, and <i>right in her head</i>. Mara lost a few seconds at it. When she was aware again, it was still going, now mingling with the Wookiee's howl. </p><p>The Wookiee had stepped away, half-turning, her magenta blade appeared from his midsection, carving him up, light streaking up in a smooth diagonal line.</p><p>The beast's howl cut off. Mara watched as the furry torso came apart, landing with a meaty thump and a metallic clatter. She blinked. El had somehow materialized beside her, bent over her, speaking in a rush, his face pale, eyes wild and unfocused.  </p><p>She was hallucinating.</p><p>Faint wisps of smoke curled out of the fallen body across from her, the stench of charred fur and burned flesh mingling with the reek of blood in the air. The Wookiee’s eyes had rage frozen in them. A trophy in some Moff’s library wall, Mara thought blankly.  </p><p>She felt as if she were falling.</p><p>"Ari--Mara! No, no, no, no. Come on, Mara! Mara!"</p><p>El's voice. </p><p>Mara opened her eyes and El's blue eyes swam in her vision. Her name. He was calling her name.</p><p>The Wookiee? </p><p>She tried to focus, pain slamming through her. Her neck? Her jaw? Something  wrong there. Did it matter? Something wrong everywhere. </p><p>“...no, don’t--don’t move. Oh, a medcenter. We have to--” El sounded odd, his words stumbling into one another, pitching high, then low like a bad frequency on a comm. His hands roved across her body in twitchy half movements. Touch, touch, pull away. He’d moved her to her back.</p><p>"We have to -- we have to -- " Mara focused again to make out what he was saying in that strange dissonant tone, but he’d stopped speaking Basic, moving forward then back in those nonsensical half movements, repeating something over and over.</p><p>She tried to speak, but only managed a wheeze.</p><p>His eyes finally locked onto hers. "I have to -- We have to--We have to. But I don’t I-- I don’t-- oh --”</p><p>"Wait," Mara whispered, she drew an agonizing breath, and closed her eyes, finally settled enough to draw on the Force. </p><p>He made a strangled sound, patting her face. "No. Mara, no-no-no--" With his other hand he clasped her hand in his.The pain suppression technique held. Mara grasped more of the Force; bit by bit it answered her call. She summoned enough strength to squeeze El’s hand.</p><p>This was the threshold her master had taught her about. A minor injury she could deal with on her own, but this wasn’t minor. This would require a safe place.</p><p>A Force healing trance.</p><p>El had sharpened in her vision, his face bent down. The shake of his shoulders distracted her. Was he crying?</p><p>She squeezed his hand again, stronger.</p><p>“Be ok,” she ground out, ignoring the copper in her mouth. "Tell you. Later.”</p><p>But he wasn’t listening. "I shouldn't have left. I shouldn’t--I--I went to find you and -- you shouldn't have --I went to say -- I’m so sorry. I'm so sorry." He made another ragged sound, shifting forward, sobbing against her hair. </p><p>"Wait." Her breath caught at the way his body was shaking above her. "Listen. Gonna be ok. Listen."</p><p>Something clenched inside her, seeing him like this. She wouldn’t be able to keep a clear head for long. He needed to listen. They might not be so lucky next time. Even now her hold on the Force was growing weaker.</p><p>“El,” she tried to call out, but it came out weak. “El. Listen.” </p><p>He pulled away to stare at her, his eyes red-rimmed, his face smeared with blood, and Mara lifted her voice. "I'll heal." She took stock. A fractured jaw, shots in her arm, her hip, several broken ribs and who knew what else. Behind El, she caught sight of the blood splattered down the counter. A line of it led to where she lay. She’d been lucky. They’d been lucky.</p><p>That <i>what else</i> was concerning. The Force itself gave her certainty -- all this would mean nothing if she didn’t drop off <i>now</i>. </p><p>“Mara,” he whispered, a haunted look in his eyes. “I don’t--”</p><p>She was burning out. It was getting hard to order her thoughts again, harder to speak. "They be back. More. I'll be. Healing."</p><p>He was still not listening. “Mara,” he gasped, “You can’t...all this--”</p><p>“Not safe here. <i>You</i> keep us safe now." There was something else. Something important to ask, to say,  but her mind was muddling fast. She drew a painful breath, and reached into the Force. It felt like plunging a hand into a basin of cool water, the water swirling, gently tugging at her. </p><p>Now, she knew, now or never.</p><p>“How can you--” El choked on the words. His next sounded distant as the water curved, the Force accommodating her. It was perfect, and she was <i>so tired</i>. “Mara, I--”</p><p>"Keep us safe.” Mara closed her eyes.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Chapter 25</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>In lieu of the usual thanks, I'll just leave <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f-ESLbanfNc">this</a> for <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangeallure/pseuds/strangeallure">strangeallure</a>.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mara woke up in quasi-darkness. Slowly. She was on the ground, a cot of some sort, the cool air around her smelling like resin overlaid with mustiness. A low chuffing sound echoed lightly. Her eyes had trouble adjusting when she blinked them open. Something soft brushed her shoulder, pulled slightly at it. Soft.</p><p>Like fur.</p><p>The Force had always sparked brightest after a trance, though the few times she’d come out of one, it’d been on a ship away from danger. She was in a cell now. </p><p>This time she wouldn’t wait for her danger sense to blast.</p><p>The Force came readily, dispeling her disorientation. El! Mara's hand grabbed the guard's paw and pulled hard. They fell forward as Mara twisted away. Something clattered on the ground. Mara pushed herself up with one hand. Swinging a leg over, she straddled her opponent’s back. Much smaller than a Wookiee, thankfully -- even smaller than her. Mara’s weight pinned it down for now. She doubted she’d have much time.</p><p>Primitive wall sconces lit the room with tepid light, enough to see a stick near the prostrate alien. Mara grabbed it, brought it down hard on the alien’s head. It made a noise between a squeal and squeak as the stick snapped into two. Her jailer thrashed, squealing louder, but couldn't get the leverage to push her off. </p><p>Mara gritted her teeth in her parched mouth, and brought the stick to the alien's furry neck, ready to crush its larynx -- if it even had one.</p><p>"Tell me where he is! Now!" She pulled at the stick, digging her knee against its back as it squealed. Kriffing aliens. "I swear to you," she shouted hoarsely over the clatter of footsteps. "If you've hurt --” Louder. “Tell me now!" Closer. She would call on the Force to slam the stick down <i>through</i> this damned alien's head. She would make the <i>only</i> statement they understood here--</p><p>“Mara, stop!"</p><p>It felt like breathing again. She let go of the stick and scrambled off of the alien. El got to her first, arms around her in a tight embrace. A lump gathered in her dried out throat. </p><p>He tore himself away too soon, an intense look on his face as his fingers felt down her jaw, yanked at the neck of her tunic -- a fresh one, she noted -- down to her shoulder, eyes searching along her arm. He was looking for her wounds, she realized, distracted by the weird triangle he had smudged on his forehead with the bottom line missing.</p><p>She didn’t have time to ask. A gravelly voice spoke in Huttese, the tone scolding. El let go of her tunic and faced the being -- a large Amphibian with a flat nose, pointing behind her. Turning her head she saw the alien get up, a bowl of something spilled over. El spat something fast in reply, his jaw tight. Mara could pick out something that sounded like <i>Wookiee</i> in there but no more.</p><p>El turned his head and his angry expression faded. The alien, a furry biped, a Drall, she realized belatedly, was maybe a meter and a half. Its face was vaguely rodent-like with a short muzzle and small slanted eyes. It had sat up and was righting the overturned bowl as El approached. El crouched by it, his voice soft and hesitant when he spoke. Mara looked away, feeling her face flame up. Not a jailer after all.</p><p>The Amphibian spoke again, lifting a long fingered hand to point to the Drall and to Mara. El nodded as he stood. No, Mara thought. Leaving the Drall, he returned to Mara's side.</p><p>"El, where are we?" she whispered.</p><p>"The Dim-U Vihara. About half an hour from Anchorhead."</p><p>Dim-U. It took her a second to remember it from her material. Bantha worshipers, she recalled. Not much else surfaced. Her head snapped around, taking in the room again, not a cell then. "A monastery?"</p><p>"This is the head priest, Qiestur." El gestured to the Amphibian and then the Drall. "This is Zedda, she'll be showing you around." The alien stood somewhat hesitantly, grabbing the pieces of her broken stick-- a walking stick. </p><p>Mara inwardly recoiled. Had she been human, Zedda would be...very hurt. She hadn’t known. The last thing she’d remembered was that bounty hunter. "Do they understand Basic?" </p><p>"I think so, but they’d rather not speak it. They’re obligated by their beliefs to answer penitents who request sanctuary without asking questions. We're safe here.” He didn’t sound too happy about it though. Their argument flashed in her memory. It couldn’t be her, right? Not after everything.</p><p>The Amphibian said something else. El met Mara’s eyes. "But our stay is only permitted while we are penitent -- that means obey their…" he paused, and the Amphibian added something. El translated, "principles of pure living. Follow their customs and cleanse ourselves."</p><p>She supposed you couldn't expect anything more from a monastery, and she tamped on a wince, especially not after that display.</p><p>The Amphibian spoke again, tone full of reproof. </p><p>"They require a strict separation of the sexes." El’s jaw tensed as he added a clipped, "I tried to explain I should stay with you since we were attacked before coming here but they didn't listen."</p><p>The Amphibian made a whistling sound then added something else. </p><p>"Blood is unclean to them," El continued, going back to that flat register, as if all this had him out sorts and he was narrowly keeping his irritation in check. “So they require ablutions from us. Should take us most of the day. Zedda will take you through them." </p><p>Mara nodded again, uneasy. Because he was here? With her? He could be happy she was alive and unhappy to realize he was now <i>stuck</i> with her.</p><p>The Amphibian added something else. “I won’t see you until dinner.” To her puzzled expression El added, “We’ve been here for about three hours -- arrived just a little before second dawn --” The Amphibian interrupted, putting his greenish hands together.</p><p>“And they want us to get started.”</p><p>Her head was swimming, torn between the information, the attack, and the memory of the argument before that. It couldn't be, but El felt upset, and she felt her chest tighten. He couldn’t still be angry at her, not now.</p><p>“El,” her whisper sounded absolutely pathetic, but she couldn't stop it, “Are you--About Mos Eisley. I didn’t--”</p><p>El blinked, blue eyes clearing, surprised. “No. No!” He made a frustrated sound. “You just <i>woke up</i> and I --” He pulled her into another tight embrace.</p><p>She hadn't even had time to feel properly relieved before the Amphibian croaked sharply and El darted away. He answered the priest in that flatly acknowledging tone and gave her a wistful look. </p><p>But this was a safe place, that was the most important thing, she told herself as she watched him go, itching to follow him. And they were all right. El did well by bringing them here. His limp seemed more pronounced, she noted with some alarm, but he was already gone. Now she’d have to wait nearly the whole day.</p><p>Mara heard shuffling behind her. The Drall -- Zedda -- rearranged the pallet on the floor where Mara had slept. The bowl that had tipped had water in it, she saw with yet another inward cringe. Wasted on the floor. Beside the cot were a few jars of salve and a pitcher, along with a wide bowl with stained bandages and another with dry, clean ones. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” Mara offered, eyes fixed to a corner of the wall behind Zedda. “I thought...” </p><p>Zedda shook a paw at her. Mara wasn’t sure what the gesture meant, but it didn’t seem hostile. After a brief pause, Zedda pointed to the salve and bandages with a questioning chuff.</p><p>“I don’t need them anymore.” She wished El had filled her in on what happened during her trance. Clearly she’d arrived at the monastery still bleeding. “But thank you.”</p><p>Zedda got to her feet. Could Dralls speak? Mara thought back to El saying they understood Basic, but preferred not to speak it. Saying thank you in Huttese would be simple. It'd be the least she could do. Mara took a few steps towards the alien and was met with a sharp cloying smell. The jar of salve, she realized. Never mind. She thanked Zedda in slow Huttese.</p><p>Zedda cocked her head at her then nodded. She reached out to the pitcher and poured some water on the bowl that had tipped. </p><p>As Zedda offered Mara the bowl of water, the stab of mortification shifted into something else Mara couldn’t pin down. Sarloo and the old Rodian came to mind. The Biths. She drank greedily from bowl, not having noticed how thirsty she was. Her stomach gave small rumble, reminding her that the trance would make her hungry too.</p><p> But she wasn’t going to ask for food now, she resolved, watching as Zedda took the piece of her walking stick with the animal on the top as if it weren’t broken. She wasn’t going to ask for anything, only keep her head down and do as they asked. It was just that you just never knew here with aliens. She followed Zedda out of the small cave-like room ignoring the ache in her stomach. The Devaronian had been a prime example. Hadn’t he turned out to be a scum sucking spice dealer? Mara blinked. </p><p>The Devaronian. </p><p>He’d worked for Jabba and he’d been expecting someone to get him past the checkpoint. He’d assumed it was her...he must have talked after and figured out it wasn’t somehow. How could word reach Jabba fast enough to send a bounty hunter for her? How had he known where to look? The attack hadn’t been more than five hours later. </p><p>Her stomach roiled as she went up some stairs. Martial law, the checkpoints, the patrols, holocams too, no doubt. A sham. All of it.</p><p>Jabba had full control of Mos Eisley.</p><p>She walked out of the stairwell behind Zedda. For a moment, the brightness stung her eyes, all but blinding her. As Mara’s eyes adjusted, an enclosed courtyard came into focus, a chittering Chadra Fan and a lumbering six-armed Besalisk milling around. Light swept down from a transparisteel domed roof. Did that mean Jabba's people had figured out who she was? They would assume she'd go back to Mos Espa, wouldn't they? What were the chances they'd be tracked to a small outpost like Anchorhead? No, they were safe here, at least for a bit.</p><p>Zedda gestured her through a shaded corridor and Mara hurried to follow. They came to a room twice the size of the one where she’d woken. Daylight poured in through an open skylight, illuminating delicate carvings of bantha herds in the stone walls. Most of the room was taken up by a pool of reddish...sand?</p><p>Mara looked in Zedda’s direction. She gave a gentle chuff and sat slowly on the step into the pool, waving Mara beside her. With her stick, she began to make a pattern in the sand. To her surprise, it was Aurebesh lettering, Basic:</p><p>
  <i>Do your ablutions here.</i>
</p><p>Mara wasn’t sure what she had expected. Certainly water would be too precious a commodity here , but she hadn’t expected to end up <i>dirtier</i>. The thought of water reminded her of how thirsty she still was. There was hardly enough spit in her mouth to even swallow and the air here had lost all the coolness from the sublevel room.</p><p>Zedda had continued writing.</p><p>
  <i>Remove your clothing and wash.</i>
</p><p>Zedda gestured for her to climb inside the pool. Mara tamped on a grimace. Wash...with sand? She slowly rid herself of her clothing and inched inside, toes pressing on the warm clay-colored sand. She’d just realized it had a softer, flour-like texture when Zedda waved her further in. The sand at the pool’s midpoint sloped downward to a wide crevice, she looked back to Zedda who indicated she should climb down. Mara gingerly stepped forward, the powdery quality of the sand making her feet unsteady</p><p>When she was mostly submerged, standing on her toes, she looked out to Zedda who met her eyes. She picked up a paw-full of the sand and pressed it between her palms, rubbing it between them. </p><p>Wash, Mara thought grimly. Right. She imitated her, rubbing the sand between her hands, creating a fine haze that got in her eyes and her mouth, making them even drier. The sand was much finer than expected, and it fell readily from her hands. Treated somehow. Mara rubbed it across her arms, then off. She did the same all over her body. </p><p>She finished and climbed back out. “Is this enough?” The sand had definitely been treated because none of it stayed on her, even the powdery haze dissipating within seconds. Her skin felt different, softer, as if she’d just sonic’ed. All of it just made the experience stranger. </p><p>Zedda nodded once, dipped her paw into a bowl with more sand and indicated Mara should sit on her knees. She lifted one digit and chuffed. Mara lowered her head and felt her trace one of the weird triangle symbols on her forehead. Zeda turned, writing in the sand with her stick. </p><p>
  <i>Mark of the penitent. You will recite Din Din Ahn.</i>
</p><p>Mara passed her a puzzled look. “Din Din Ahn?” </p><p>Zedda scratched out her words on the sand and wrote, <i>The Stalwart Bantha who Absolves and Endures</i>.</p><p>Bantha worshippers. Ridiculous. Mara took a breath, kept her face neutral. “All right.”</p><p>Zedda wrote a long line of words, standing and moving towards the far side of the room as she did. Though written in Aurebesh, it didn’t seem to be words so much as an arbitrary collection of sounds. After Zedda had finished, she wrote in a smaller script underneath. </p><p>
  <i>Recite. </i>
</p><p>Zedda made a beckoning gesture and tapped the first word. </p><p>Mara sounded it out, feeling foolish, then the second when Zedda tapped that one. It was all gibberish to her. Little by little she became aware of a beat Zedda was tapping out, and her repetition organized itself around it into a rhythm, a chant, she supposed but it still meant nothing to her and all of this had no point. After a while she lost track of how many times she’d repeated the line. Zedda didn’t give any indication she should stop, so Mara steeled herself against the frustration of wasting long hours to this, her stomach rumbling unhappily. She’d meditated before, of course, but that was...focused, it wasn’t reciting nonsense sounds while naked after basically burying herse--</p><p>The lightsaber! She gasped, losing her place. Her master’s lightsaber. The blue one she was tasked to get. She’d left it in a hiding spot in the apartment. Kriff. Kriff. Mara squeezed her eyes shut. Zedda tapped her stick several times. When Mara opened her eyes, Zedda had her head tilted as if she were concerned.</p><p>All Mara felt was the painful, hollow roil of her stomach. Kriff no. That lightsaber had been the reason she was sent here. She couldn’t leave it behind. She couldn’t. Her hands clenched into fists. She’d have to go back for it. As soon as possible. </p><p>Zedda’s tapping became more insistent, but Mara ignored it, closing her eyes. She couldn’t enter the city through official means. Who knew if the whole Imperial database onplanet was compromised? And El. He had to stay here. Perhaps she could leave at night and find her way back through whatever route he took to get them here. She would need credits -- credits she didn’t have with her. El might. </p><p>But El could not be involved. He had to stay here. Last time had been too close.</p><p>Zedda tapped harder and Mara opened her eyes, feeling her whole body stiff with tension. Zedda chuffed, tentatively drew close and scratched off her previous sentence under the words to write:</p><p>
  <i>Unwell?</i>
</p><p>Mara shook her head, biting her lip, and forced herself to go back to the recitation. She had to find out where El had her credits, get them, somehow pay her way into Mos Eisley, grab the lightsaber and return. </p><p>Maybe she could do this without El knowing -- if she left after dinner and made it back by next evening. But, her eyes focused on Zedda as she continued the recitation, Zedda would tell the priest when she went missing, wouldn’t she? He would tell El.</p><p>El could return to Mos Eisley at her heels. Looking for her.</p><p>A low melodic call spread through the monastery, echoing through the pourstones and lingering in the dry air.</p><p>Mara bowed her head forward. No, there had to be another idea. Something else. Zedda stood suddenly, stick pointing to new words.</p><p>
  <i>Dress. Eat now.</i>
</p><p>--</p><p>Zedda led Mara back to the courtyard, crossing it to end at a room where a red skinned Twi’lek woman was stirring something in a pot the size of a fuel drum. Her paws moved quickly when she faced the Twi’lek, who spoke in loud Huttese. She handed Mara a bowl and a spoon.</p><p>The Twi’lek nodded,  giving Mara a pitying look as she spooned something into the bowl and beckoned her over. Mara wanted to cover her nose at the pungent smell of whatever she was stirring, but her empty stomach still gave a low growl. “The noon meal isn’t for a few hours but here, girl,” she said in thickly accented Basic, “eat your fill." She gestured to a pitcher at a nearby table. "Water's there.”</p><p>Mara gave a sideways glance at Zedda, wondering what Zedda had told the Twi’lek, but accepted the bowl. Mara went to pour herself some water. She couldn’t do anything until El filled her in about her credits. Mara stared listlessly at the brownish water in her glass. He must have gone through so much trouble to get them here. She couldn’t imagine how he’d react when she told him.</p><p>When she looked up, Zedda was pointing to some dirty cushions at the edge of the kitchen. Mara sat there with the bowl in her hands, examining it gingerly, trying not to wrinkle her nose at the smell. It looked like some sort of fermented legume. It tasted ghastly and slimy. She devoured it and had another.</p><p>She couldn’t do anything until El filled her in about her credits, she thought, staring listlessly at the brownish water in her glass. He must have gone through so much trouble to get them here. She couldn’t imagine how he’d react when she told him.</p><p>Mara parsed through her limited options time and again as Zedda took her back to the room and had her recite some more She had to get that lightsaber. How in space could she have forgotten to tell El about it? That had been the <i>mission</i>.</p><p>Some near endless interval later, Zedda had Mara stretch and changed the words to something else Mara promptly forgot. At least she had kept her tunic on this time. Through the skylight she spied the suns being high in the sky. It must be double noon, if not close to it. Where had they made El take his meals? She got the impression the monastery wasn’t that big. Was El all right apart from that more pronounced limp? At some point Zedda took her back for more of that horrible food and water, which Mara downed all the while thinking she had to go back to kriffing Mos Eisley. Somehow.</p><p>By the time the light decreased again, after several stretches and nonsense chanting she forgot as soon as Zedda erased the words, the sense of wellbeing granted by the healing trance had thoroughly worn off. Zedda led her to some communal showers, going as far as to hand her a comb. Mara sat in the vestibule area, yanking the comb through her matted hair, but barely feeling it. She would definitely need a coloring agent now to return. All for nothing. Days hiding out. Barely escaping only to have to go back...</p><p>Afterwards, Zedda herded her back to the courtyard where some threadbare cushions had been set up. Even with the day’s tension heavy on her, her heart did a flip at seeing El. Already seated, he bent over a small bowl identical to the one she’d had, his hair over his eyes, shoulders sagging. A thick-set, green-skinned Skrilling sat a few cushions away, but otherwise he was alone. It was all she could do not to run to him. </p><p>Instead, Mara let Zedda take her to where she was to wait for her meal. She counted no more than seven or eight beings, including the Chadra Fan and the Besalisk, she’d seen earlier. Now, a long-nosed Kubaz waited ahead of her in the line, when he recieved his meal, she saw he also had that triangular mark she and El had been made to wear. The monastery must be as small as she’d thought. As Mara got yet another bowl -- this one a stew by the looks of it with pieces of mushy vegetables -- she tipped her head in El’s direction. Zedda chuffed in a way Mara took as permission. She crossed back to where he sat and plopped herself down beside him. </p><p>El startled, straightening up. He’d been dozing, seemingly done already with his food. </p><p>“Hey,” she whispered. “You okay?”</p><p>He passed a hand down his face. “Yeah, yeah.” His eyes lifted up to her. “You--”</p><p>“I’m fine,” Mara said quickly, reading the spark of concern. “Perfect. How's your leg? I saw you--”</p><p>“It’s unbelievable,” he said as if he hadn’t heard her. “The head wound alone--”</p><p>She furrowed her brow, not even remembering what he was referring to -- him, on the other hand... “El your leg."</p><p>His shoulders bowed a little. "It's fine."</p><p>Mara flashed him a scolding look. </p><p>"A little stiff," he conceded. "It's that blasted brace. It'll be normal once I get some rest, but you…” he looked almost at a loss. “I saw...maybe- I thought-” He stopped.</p><p>Mara paused, inched closer and lowered her voice. The Skrilling’s eyes turned to them, but she felt nothing but simple curiosity. You never knew with aliens, but they <i>were</i> the only two humans here. She suspected humans didn't stay here all that often. Mara ignored it. “El, I have...abilities.”</p><p>“Like...Jedi?" he whispered back hesitantly, then his words gathered more speed. "The journal said they could levitate things and--”</p><p>She shook her head. “No -- I mean, kind of, I told you, Jedi believed all sorts of other nonsense.”</p><p>He seemed to be trying to put it all together. “Like the...Force.” </p><p>“The Force is real. That’s what I use. With my abilities I could go into the trance and heal. I can move things, be faster, I also know when...”</p><p>She stopped because El still looked as if she were speaking in another language. The Skrilling’s eyes on them were all the more irritating. “It's okay if you aren't human,” El said slowly. “I don’t care about that shavit. You could be--</p><p>"Of course I'm human," she hissed. "I'm human; my genome is completely clean.”</p><p>He still had a wary look on his face. Maybe he was too exhausted for this conversation. With a furtive glance about she was forced to note this was hardly the ideal place for it. The Skrilling still hadn’t looked away.</p><p>Mara shot him a glare before turning back to El. “How’d you get us out?”</p><p>El’s eyes went back down to his stew. “Smuggling tunnels. I tried to bargain, but they wouldn’t go lower once they...saw you. I had to use all your credits.”</p><p>“Smuggling tunnels?” Mara filed the information away. She’d have to use it. “Where?”</p><p>“Under the water distribution plant. It was constructed along an old caving system, runs under the Kwee Kunee…” he trailed off, looking off to the distance. “I sold your blaster rifle and mine to get us through.”</p><p>“Of course,” she replied with a wave, pushing off the sinking feeling. All her credits. “Wait. Did you keep the bag where the weapons were?”</p><p>“I buried everything,” he glanced about and lowered his voice more as he saw the nosy Skrilling, “The rest of the weapons and the lightsabers are about a mile from here. I have the tracker with me so we can get it all once we leave.”</p><p>Mara inched closer. “Lightsabers?”</p><p>“Yeah,” he flashed her a questioning look, “Yours and the blue one your boss sent you for. What?”</p><p>She shook her head, feeling all of the day’s tension dissipate. Brilliant. He was absolutely brilliant. She felt a wide smile break across her face.</p><p>“You think they’ll throw us out if I kiss you now?”</p><p>His concerned expression melted away along with the exhaustion. For a second she glimpsed again that smartass grin. “Possibly. That’s not very penitent. Or clean.”</p><p>She couldn’t help the guffaw that broke out of her. Several beings turned and looked at them and she covered her mouth.</p><p>But El sighed, slumping a little, and self consciously shifted away in his cushion. “They had you chanting, right?”</p><p>She made a face. “All day. Have you stayed at a place like this before?”</p><p>"At Mos Espa. Safest place to get better, but they lay on the penitence talk really thick."</p><p>Mara hadn't really noticed, but then again, Zedda hadn’t talked to her. Maybe Dralls didn’t speak, or maybe something was wrong with her.</p><p>“They’re hypocrites,” El muttered. “All this talk about protecting life and how if you’re bleeding you probably had it coming, and no bantha meat or you’re some kind of murderer, and they still deal with Sand People.” He scowled. “Second largest murderers on the blasted planet after Imperials.” His eyes snapped up to her suddenly.</p><p>Mara felt her own expression darken, remembering her previous train of thought hours earlier. Kriffing Mos Eisley. </p><p>“Someone gave me up back there,” she told El. “Had to. That Wookiee knew where to look. Only way he would is if some crooked trash sold my data to that slug’s people. You were right. It’s all Jabba’s now.” She took a spoonful of her stew and regretted it as her tongue started burning, as her <i>throat</i> started burning. Inedible. She downed her glass of water, which almost made it worse. El flashed her a sympathetic look about to say something, which she silenced with a scowl. </p><p>"When can we leave?” she asked when she could speak again. It felt like she wouldn't be able to taste anything the entire night. She stared at her bowl despondently, wishing for some of the disgusting food from earlier. Or a ration bar. None of that would wreck her digestive system.</p><p>He made a impatient grunt. “As soon as I can get some sleep. I approached Qiestir about getting a ride into Anchorhead when you woke up but their supply run is tomorrow." His lips curled in a humorless smile. "He suggested I prove my penitence until then."</p><p>Mara narrowed her eyes. “They had you chanting instead of resting?"</p><p>“It's what they have everyone do if they show up a mess," he drank from his water, “hoping they'll brainwash them into staying. It works sometimes too. They don't call them spaceport cultists for nothing.” </p><p>Even priests wanted something here, of course. “I had a trance and rest -- how’d you stay awake?”</p><p>He scoffed. “Who says I did? Qiestur would poke me with his stick every few. Got a surprise when I woke up yelling.”</p><p>"Yelling?"</p><p>El lifted a hand, expression losing that bit of grim humor. "Just wired from the night."</p><p>That put to mind his nightmares, but Mara didn’t say anything. “So tomorrow?”</p><p>He leaned forward, his hands on the bowl. “My guess is that they’ll go early morning for supplies. We can see about digging up some of the weapons to trade before first dawn, catch a ride with them, see if that gets us a speeder in Anchorhead.”</p><p>She made a soft sound of negation. “We don't have to barter. I have an emergency credit stash in the interior lining of the duffel. Enough to rent another speeder and a bit more," she felt the corner of her lips lift in a half smile. "So we can sneak out, grab the credits, come back here, get a ride to town, and come back for the weapons with a speeder. We’re not that far, are we? Half an hour, you said.”</p><p>He shook his head, smiling too. “You’re prepared for everything, aren’t you?”</p><p>Mara felt her smile waver. “Not everything.” She pushed her gruel forward so her knuckles brushed against his. “That’s why I have you.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Chapter 26</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Strangeallure as always the mvp.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sky was blue black, dizzyingly full of stars, the moons only the faintest slivers when Mara climbed out the back gates of the monastery. She jumped down landing in a crouch in front of where El hid in the shadows.</p><p>"You move like a boca--"  She cut him off with her lips on his like she'd wanted to since she'd woken. She felt him startle a split second before he folded his arms around her.</p><p>"You shouldn't have come back." It was different to be this close, just them, and he was reassuringly warm and solid in her arms. She could smell his familiar scent under the resin smell of the monastery. "You shouldn't have. I thought he'd -- he'd kill you. He could have killed you and I--I couldn't have done anything. I couldn't--"</p><p>El drew back, gently tilting her head up. "I wasn't going to leave you." The finality in his tone made her swallow.</p><p>El's hand clasped hers, tugging her with him. "Come on. We don't have much time." He pulled something out of his cloak. The tracker's beacon. It lit up with coordinates. He passed her a small glowrod Mara recognized from her tools and she flicked it on. </p><p>"Your leg," she said, remembering his limp earlier.</p><p>"It's better."</p><p>It was, but there was still something off about how he was walking. She'd have to haul him kicking and screaming to a medcenter once they got back to Mos Espa to check on the leg. Mara thought he'd tell her more about leaving Mos Eisley during the long walk but El was silent. His hand was around hers though and his silence seemed more about focus than anything else. Suddenly all she could think of was that once they’d returned from the homesteads she'd have to leave the planet. Without him.</p><p>The beacon beeped. </p><p>"Here," El murmured in the stillness, dropping to his knees. "Can you point the glowrod here?" He pulled out a disc with the circumference of his splayed hand.</p><p>"That my ion shovel?"</p><p>"Yeah," by glowrod light his eyes seemed dark, "we'd have to dig stuff back out. What?"</p><p>She squatted next to him as the disk began to whir and clear off sand. It glinted silvery in light. She put the glowrod on the ground to free her hands. "You thought to bring it with you. That’s...impressive.”</p><p>El gave her a mildly exasperated look. "Are you being sarcastic because that the Outer Rim shavit--"</p><p>Mara let out an indignant squawk and pulled him towards her. He didn't fall, just leaned more heavily against her. "You dolt," she chided by his ear. "No one is this prepared. Not here. Not at the Core." She released him with a huff. </p><p>He stayed silent for a beat but came back with, "Except you."</p><p>Mara felt her lip twist, thinking of the many ways her plans had been blown to pieces. "When I'm not in Tatooine apparently."</p><p>She expected for him to chuckle but he let a long silence stretch with just the whir of the shovel. It beeped, indicating the rest they'd have to clear by hand.</p><p>"I was raised at a farm not too far from here. We had equipment," El said in a strained voice as he leaned forward to start clearing off the sand. Self conscious maybe? He didn't need to be.</p><p>"Yeah? That where you learned a little bit about everything?" She bent down to scoop the remaining sand out, remembering an old conversation. His aunt and uncle hadn't liked taking him to Mos Eisley. Mara imagined him tending to foul-smelling dewbacks all day like she'd seen human laborers their age do at Pika. His uncle hadn't wanted him to leave, he'd said. Perhaps wanting to keep the free labor indefinitely. </p><p>"I wouldn't have pegged you for a farmboy." No one could be faulted for running away from that life of drudgery. "Though that's not really what you are, is it?"</p><p>El stopped digging, his eyes suddenly very wide, fear stark and icy through the Force. </p><p>"El, what is it?" She didn't feel anything, but stopped digging, straightened up to look around, senses alert. "You saw something? Where?"</p><p>He suddenly relaxed and flashed her an odd smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "What am I?" </p><p>"Capable," she replied, taken aback by his shifts in mood -- but it had been a very long two days. He wasn’t used to this sort of thing. It was obvious the tension was taking its toll on him. "Extremely capable."</p><p>He pulled her towards him, pressing a kiss to her temple before letting her go to keep digging. For a second it felt like any other day, any other evening, none of the recent anxiety, none of the strain that had weighed down the air since they'd left the hut. Only them.</p><p>After a moment she felt some rubbery material, different from her weapons bag. "I got it."Once she started pulling out the object, she noticed a zipper running down its length. She straightened and grabbed the glowrod, illuminating past where she was digging all the way down to where El had gone to clear off more of the sand a couple of feet away. </p><p>A body bag.</p><p>Mara put the glowrod back down and reached forward to pull down the zipper down half way. The easy mood had faded, leaving a different kind of silence. Mara couldn't place why it unsettled her. How else to leave the city but as a dead body? It was clever. If Jabba got word he'd be be tracking one now, not two. El came over squat beside her.</p><p>"I thought I would be burying you." His voice was hushed. "But when they dropped me off here, the wound in your head had stopped bleeding. It wasn't...there."</p><p>Mara felt for her duffel, ignoring the goosebumps on her skin. It was cold, but not that cold, especially with the cloak she’d borrowed from the monastery. El helped her pull her duffel out, shugged off his cloak and set it on the sand, as she opened it. Between both of them, they spilled the weapons out onto the cloak. Mara, grabbed her extra holdout, and checked its power pack. A hundred percent. The holster was nearby and she pulled her tunic sleeve up to work it on her arm.</p><p>"Most of the swelling in your face had gone down too. Though not all of it.There were still some cuts. But that doesn't...happen, so it was like you said. You were healing."</p><p>Her stomach clenched as she palmed her extra vibroblade and set it beside her leg.</p><p>"Your arm was still bleeding. And your hip. I... I didn't know whether to deal with your shoulder or not. It stuck out at a weird angle, but I just didn't know, so I left it. I still couldn't hear a heartbeat." His voice was barely audible, close to breaking.</p><p>The heartbeat was part of it. Her master had told her that it’d be nearly undetectable. Mara reached back her DL and holster next, and checked its power pack too as silence fell again, heavy and unnatural.</p><p>"I've only done that twice," she broke the eerie stillness after confirming the blaster was at full power. “The trance. Usually on my ship by myself. It’s never been that close.” Close to what she couldn’t allow herself to say, not now with the mood being so strange. She offered him the blaster.</p><p>"You said you were put in bacta." The pattern of shadows on his face changed as he shifted to grab it, a sense of coiled energy about him.</p><p>Another non sequitur, unless... ah. "My master doesn't believe in shortcuts. I had to earn this knowledge." She leaned to touch his right ankle. "The holster goes-- no wait," she muttered, thinking better of it, "it won't conceal with those leggins." She took the DL from his hands, putting it beside her. "Here. Take mine." She took off her holster and holdout, reaching for his forearm, pushing back his sleeve to fasten it on. "It goes here. This is the release," she illustrated. "Show me."  </p><p>El wordlessly mimicked the flick.</p><p>She nodded. Too slow. "Like that, but faster. Again."</p><p>"For months?"</p><p>"Yeah. Again. Try not to think about the motion. Slows you down." The draw was faster this time, but still not quite as fluid as she'd want.</p><p>"You said it was an assessment," he said after she'd had him do it several more times.</p><p>She raised her head, not liking his tone, the rigid way he was sitting, the hard set of his jaw. All of it felt wrong. "Again."</p><p>"Good." That flick was much better, much, but still not as instinctive as she'd like. Then again, she'd been doing it for years. Surprise itself counted for a lot. Hopefully, this would all be unnecessary.</p><p>"It was my own error that landed me in the medcenter.” Mara went back to the DL's holster, extending it to fashion it into a shoulder holster. She hadn’t broken the transparisteel the right way before throwing herself through. Almost as embarrassing as her performance here. At least she could still count it as a success with the lightsaber; back then, she'd had to account for her failing in an endless failure debrief with her handlers, going over her every mistake again and again with no food or water and too-bright light in her eyes. The session of self critique had gone on for so long enough she'd started wishing to not have been extracted at all. </p><p>“Actions have consequences." Mara pulled down her tunic to buckle the holster on over her tank, sliding the DL into it. "I know it might seem harsh, but I have a lot of privileges too. You've seen it.  It's fair." After she'd pulled her tunic back up, she yanked the empty duffel and used her vibroblade to slit open the duffel's lining, revealing the credit chips. "And here we go." She grinned. "About time things got simpler."</p><p>El made a choked sound. Mara’s head snapped up, but she found nothing but the same anxiety about him. She went back to her task, fashioning a pouch with the cloth and passed him the credits. </p><p>He'd been worried about her. All day she'd waited to feel indignant, condescended to, but none of it came. No one save her master had been worried on her account -- and he didn't worry like this.</p><p> "It's all right, El," she soothed, "I don't tend to make the same mistake twice."</p><p>Or maybe he was thinking of their separation. She could tell him -- no, not right now. At a better time, when there wasn't a body bag beside them and El felt more settled. </p><p>"My master has full confidence in me. You should too. He's a good man," she told him, thinking back to all those sunny afternoon walks, him listening to her blather about her studies, giving her advice, telling her of her potential for greatness, unlocking her talents. Even if her tutors had been dismissive more often than not, her master had stressed it was their failing, their inability to perceive how unique she was. It was to their detriment. True vision was so rare, and she should get used to dealing with those who didn't recognize her value.</p><p>How long had it been since her master spoken to her? </p><p>El leaned towards her. "What is it?"</p><p>Mara shook her head at herself, lowering her eyes. "He's been very busy recently." Even as she said it, she felt it’d been a mistake. El had thought her attachment to her master stupid, hadn’t he? “I guess you were right.” She found herself adding. “It’s childish. He’s been there since I was little. No one else-” She bit her lip, finally forcing herself to be quiet. She'd said all that already.</p><p>Mara heard a shuffle as El scooted closer. “No, no,” he laid a hand on her back, his side warm against hers. “I said a lot I shouldn’t have. It wasn't right.”</p><p>And she had too, hadn't she? Suggesting he'd wasted his time yearning for parents who never cared. That hadn't been right either.</p><p>But she didn't want to rehash their argument, not even to apologize. Mara summoned a smile, the thought of her plans for them bouying her. Maybe he'd meet him someday.</p><p>"I had another nightmare tonight," El blurted out, startling her. "It was about you. </p><p>A chill went down her spine, mostly at his tone, but Mara shook her head. </p><p>"El, what happened at Mos Eisley --"</p><p>"You were in a small room," his words tumbled out in a rush, "and there was some...thing with you. You were sick. In pain."</p><p>"--you should have never seen something like that," she finished with a frown. "Gets into your head."</p><p>"It wasn't about that. I had it during the afternoon too. I woke up yelling and..." He scrubbed his hand across his face. “ I don’t know what’s going on. I'm just--"</p><p>"Worried. I understand," Mara placed a hand on his arm, "I feel like that about you. I think it's normal after a close call."</p><p>She had almost killed that Drall, hadn't she? The Force hadn't even signaled danger. “We need to finish this. That will make the nightmares go away, El. And being far away from this place will make everything better." Mara wrapped her arms around his tense shoulders until he returned her embrace.</p><p>It would only be for a while. If a luminary like Soontir Fell could marry some vac brained holostar, no one would look askew at an ambitious Star Destroyer captain wanting to take up with a court dancer. When the time was right El would come for her. He wouldn’t forget about her. Not if the mere possibility of her dying had him like this. </p><p>"We have to get back.” El’s arm squeezed tight around her. “First dawn isn’t that far off.”</p><p>She made a sound of protest.</p><p>“I know,” he said in a heavy whisper, smoothing back her hair. “I know.”</p><p>-- </p><p>They separated once they returned to the monastery. Mara woke with the melodious call that rang out through the building shortly before Zedda came to get her. Breakfast was an improvement -- flatbread and water, followed by another set of ablutions, more chanting. When Zedda had decided it was enough, she led Mara to the kitchen area. El was waiting for her there, two short Bravaisians without the triangular mark -- priests or workers, she assumed -- standing by him. They said something and went out through a back exit waving them along.</p><p>“They’ll take us to Anchorhead via eopie,” El translated, and she found herself sizing up the rather gangly quadrupeds behind the Bravaisians. True to Dim-U customs, she was to ride with one of the Bravaisians while El was to ride on the other. The trek felt long and uncomfortable, the suns beating down on them despite the early morning hour and the eopies merely lumbering along. Mara could discern three buildings in the distant haze, but they didn’t seem to grow any nearer as they kept riding. Mara rubbed at the mark at her forehead until she couldn't feel the sand, watching El stiffen further the closer they got to their destination. Occasionally, he glanced at her with a strange expression on his face like he wasn’t sure if she really was there. </p><p>Something must have happened to him here. But how much did Mos Eisley’s lawlessness stain nearby outposts like Anchorhead? El had assured her that it was safe, but his general tension didn’t give her much assurance.</p><p>Finally they stopped at the entrance to a small market. They dismounted and El gave their thanks as the Bravaisians nodded, turning to lead their mounts inside. El turned away from the market, one hand wiping out the mark at his forehead, his other at Mara's lower back urging her along before she could even ask. Several dusty storefronts lay along the path and Mara assumed El had a fixed destination in mind. It was getting to double noon, and after three meals ranging from unappetizing to inedible, Mara looked forward to lunch more than she should have. They passed a cantina that looked to be little more than an Adarian cart with a canopy around it. Selling water for cheap mostly, El told her. The vendor probably got it from Jawas, who had stolen it, much like they stole whatever else.</p><p>“Consistently?” Mara asked, amused. Despite the dubious provenance, that Adarian had no shortage of customers. There was a healthy line of sentients of various species -- Dugs, Rodians, Squibs, and even a couple of human boys taking animatedly between themselves. “He gets his water from someone who consistently steals it?”</p><p>El adjusted his headscarf for the fifth time since they’d dismounted. “Most likely someone has a leak in one of their vaporators and doesn’t know it," he explained tersely. "Happens if you're not constantly on top of them.” </p><p>The gravelly paths were nowhere near as crowded as they’d been at Mos Eisley. A mass of children of various species played what looked like an improvised game of smashball with a too-large hoverball at one of the side streets they passed, their yelling in Basic standing out to Mara after the monastery's murmured Huttese. </p><p>El reached for her hand to pull her along at a quicker pace, leading her to a nondescript cantina. An unassuming building no different from all the other structures in the area, it was just a block or two beside a landing area for intra-planetary transport. Mara made a mental note to go check the hours for the last transport to Mos Espa.</p><p>The cantina, too, as it turned out, was actually a small tapcafe, filled with tables occupied by travelers, Mara assumed. A red-skinned Devaronian mother with her baby in a sling was eating to their left, and a hunched furry Squib at a corner table seemed about to fall asleep, possibly waiting for the next transport out. Mara picked a table near the entrance, off to the side, aware of how El readjusted his headscarf and bent his head down, seeming to shrink into himself.</p><p>“Keep it down, kids,” the Gotal dusting the back counter growled towards a distant table where three squealing children just short of their teens were gathered something. </p><p>The children dissolved into laughter and the Gotal looked at them unhappily, patting his hairy hands on his dirty apron. “Can’t listen to the transmission.” He pointed to a hyperwave HoloNet transceiver. Mara looked up to the staticky display of...she couldn't tell. </p><p>“Sorry Squeej!” hollered one of them, a brown-haired girl, before snorting at whatever they were watching -- on a datapad, Mara thought-- and collapsing into quiet giggles.</p><p>Mara turned away from the scene. El had been looking in the children’s direction too as he'd taken his seat, lost in thought. He’d mentioned not having anyone to call a friend anymore. Why had he lost touch? Had he been that scared of being found by his aunt and uncle? Why?</p><p>“Hey,” she whispered, sliding her hand over his. His expression cleared as he turned to look at her. She'd do the talking now. It'd be a good way to orient herself, besides. “I’m going up,” she gestured to the counter. “You want anything specific?” </p><p>“Anything's fine.” He gave her another one of those small smiles. A little pained, she thought. She’d seen too much of it since yesterday. This place wasn’t good for him. The dissident wouldn’t be at the farm anymore anyway. She was just following a trail and looking for clues. The sooner they left, the sooner he’d be back to himself. </p><p>If only for a day before she had to leave. With an inward sigh, Mara approached the counter. The conical horns Gotals had made them particularly sensitive to moods and dispositions.</p><p>“Two waters, please,” she ordered. “What kind of varieties do you have?”</p><p>The Gotal looked up at her and listed three or four names. </p><p>Mara laughed. “I don’t recognize any of those.”</p><p>“Suppose you wouldn’t if you’re not from around here,” he said kindly. “Izza isn’t bad and it won't hurt your pocket much.”</p><p>Mara accepted the recommendation. "More locals than I saw at Mos Eisley,” she said casually when the Gotal returned, eyes on the gaggle of children.</p><p>“Kids from the farms,” he answered her inquiring look, putting two glasses of water before her. “Parents leave ‘em to spend time here while they go about their errands. All that noise bothering you, Miss? I can tell them to shut up.”</p><p>Mara shook her head. She doubted they would anyway. “No, it just stood out to me compared to Mos Eisley.”</p><p>She thought she saw comprehension in the look he gave her. “Anchorhead’s small, more of a community. Not like that dungpit, you pardon my language.” </p><p>“Still close to Mos Eisley. You get no trouble from there?"</p><p>The Gotal made a snorting sound Mara took as a chuckle. “Occasionally. Jabba’s people come every few, just to let everyone know he’s in charge, but no one around here be making enough credits to be worth regular visits.”</p><p>“So it's safe? I heard there were Tuskens in this area.”</p><p>“Sand people? Less and less. Last attack was,” he trailed off. “Maybe a good decade ago? I’m not sure.”</p><p>She gave him a fluttery smile and made as if to survey the kids. “People don't seem that worried around here.”</p><p>“Nah. Farm folk are hardy. Any one of those youngsters you see right there could probably shoot the wings off a desert fly, and that’s just them. Don’t be fooled by all their yapping.”</p><p>“Impressive. Although,” she lowered her voice slightly. If he wasn't volunteering, she'd push a little. “I heard Tuskens <i>did</i> attack a farm not too far from here. I was told to be careful.”</p><p>“Oh,” the Gotal’s voice dipped, mournfully. “That’s what you meant. The Lars incident. Damn shame. They were good people."</p><p>"What happened? All I heard was that only the son survived."</p><p>"Nephew, yeah. Older than this lot. But see the Council did their ask and see after and no other farms reported a thing. Them Sand People had tangled up with some sandcrawler just before -- could be the Lars got in the middle of something without meaning to.”</p><p>“Wait -- nephew?” Mara’s brow furrowed.</p><p>The Gotal nodded. “Suppose something happened to his parents. The Lars didn’t have children of their own, far as I know. Anyway,” he adopted a calming tone, “it was all mighty unusual.”</p><p>Mara rested her chin on her hand. “What usually happens here after something like that? Did the…s--nephew get the help in finding the ones responsible?”</p><p>The Gotal moved his head side to side. “He left, I think. Probably doesn't want anything to do with the place. Some people be superstitious like that."</p><p>“He didn’t come back at all? Not even to sell it?”</p><p>“You prospectin’, Miss?” he sounded amused.</p><p>Mara laughed. “Someone like me? No, the story sounds...frightening, that's all. So the farm’s just...abandoned now?”</p><p>“Seems like. Could be someone bought it recently. I wouldn't know. But I do know you ain't got to worry none about Sand People here.”</p><p>Mara nodded. “Well that's reassuring, thank you.” She put in an order for their lunch before walking back to El, who still had his hood up. He looked up as she put the drinks down and sat. </p><p>“You were gone for a while." He reached for his glass and gulped down near half of his water. </p><p>“I was just asking about the amount of Tusken attacks in this area. If we’re going to head out, I don’t want any surprises. I did some research at the Housing Bureau, but nothing compares to local knowledge.”</p><p>”Sand People prefer the Wastes. More cover. I thought I told you?”</p><p>“Yeah.” Mara took a swig of her water. Had El truly been a local here -- enough to really know? She let the question go. It’d be a waste to use the little time left they had on another pointless argument. </p><p>“So we should be able to head out to get the speeder.” She glanced at El. “What do you think? Make it back before second twilight. Pass through the Lars farm, check if there’s anything strange, and then go ask at the Marstrap farm if they’ve seen anything odd. We eat first though. I think the food back at the Dim-U was worse than a ration bar.”</p><p>She expected a tease, but El finished the rest of his water in another long gulp. “All right.” He took a deep breath. "Mara--"</p><p>“I doubt my suspect is still here. Last sighting was a year ago. That's too long. The counterbeing doesn't know anything either.” She stopped. "What is it?"</p><p>He shook his head. Should she tell him that the Tusken story was a cover up? That the Lars were actually rebel sympathizers, executed for aiding in a plot? <i>The</i> plot.</p><p>“You found out more?” he asked slowly, squaring his shoulders as if he were bracing for a blow. </p><p>Mara drank a bit more of her water. No. It would make no difference to El -- might only make him more on edge.</p><p>“No,” she murmured with a faint smile, “That's it. I ordered some dewback eggs and sotan. I hope that’s okay.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Chapter 27</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"You sure you don't have any landspeeders to rent?" Mara asked looking past the owner, a Bothan with cream colored fur, to the back storage area separated by an archway from the general store. "I saw some out back." The junkyard was past that storage area, visible from the street. That was why they stopped here after their lunch.</p><p>The Bothan shook his head as she grabbed the duffel bag she'd purchased.</p><p>"No, Miss. If you're looking for a vehicle your best bet is the power station out by the east end. What I have out back is just junk for parts." </p><p>She hadn't had the time to consult a map since Mos Eisley, but El would know. He’d decided to stay outside to avoid scrutiny. "How do you get there?"</p><p>"Bit of a walk from here. You got a ‘pad?" Mara reached into her tunic for her datapad and presented it to the Bothan. He turned it this way and that, muttering, “How in blazes does this thing turn on?” When that had gone on long enough, Mara wordlessly plucked it back turned it on to it’s note-taking program and handed it back.</p><p>The Bothan made a general sound of acknowledgement. "This here's Anchorhead, and here," he made a dot to the left, "is us." He drew a long winding line to the right with a clawed finger. "Then here's the municipal reg, you follow the street down," he marked it and drew a slight curve towards the top,"make a turn over by the comm cen here," after marking it, he traced a straighter line, "and there's a whole bunch of nothing until you see it. Eastern end of the Dune Sea's just past it." He finished with an x, and handed her the datapad back.</p><p>"All right." Mars looked over the map. Shouldn’t be difficult to follow. "You sure there isn't anything closer?"</p><p>"Got some dewbacks -- pay here and get 'em over by the stables."</p><p>She shook her head. Dewbacks weren't that much faster than eopies and she'd been smelling the one she'd ridden on her the whole damn day. "No, that's all right." She  folded the map. "Thank you."</p><p>El was leaning back in the space between the building and the next when she came out, the arid heat near suffocating after the shop's cooling unit. They were few minutes walk east from the transports and main shopping area; pedestrians had thinned out some, but El was as jumpy as he’d ever been.</p><p>"No speeders," Mara told him, after he’d pulled her into the alley. She made a general gesture past the store and dropped the duffel beside her. "A power station down--"</p><p>El’s lips flattened into a thin line. "No."</p><p>She startled, caught off guard by the quick refusal. "He sai--"</p><p>"We're not going to Tosche station." </p><p>The finality of it made her stop again. She met his eyes, about to voice an objection, but swallowed it down at the drawn look on his face. </p><p>"All right, but dewbacks aren't that fast, are they? Could we go and come back with enough time to grab the last transport to Mos Espa if we travel on one?"</p><p>She saw his shoulders drop. "No. We'll cut it too close."</p><p>Mara touched his arm. "It's going to be like this. I'd just go into that power station and get a speeder and that's it. You can wait a few blocks away. No one has to see you."</p><p>Something torn flashed in his expression. "No." She knew a bit of give when she saw it, and gave his arm a squeeze. </p><p>"You could even stay here--"</p><p>"No." That was no give at all. She had the impulse to argue, but she could read the stiffness in his muscles, that stubborn set in his jaw. He meant it.</p><p>She really didn't want to waste the day traveling by dewback. </p><p>"What'd he say about the speeders out back?" El asked after a drawn out moment.</p><p>"Not for sale. Junk."</p><p>"He didn't say what was wrong with them?"</p><p>Mara pursed her lips. "Junk seemed pretty explanatory."</p><p>"It's Tatooine," El shrugged, "Everything's junk."</p><p>A little harsh for him, she thought, but not totally inaccurate.</p><p>"It's not a particularly difficult speeder ride to the flats. If it runs, should be enough."</p><p>She gave him a strained pleading look. "I don't know if I can take another breakdown in the desert, El." </p><p>He surprised her with a short laugh, covering her hand with his, and she smiled, relieved for even that reprieve.</p><p>"The salt flats are not like the Wastes and those are T-44s out there." He gestured to the lot past the wall at the end of the alley, more upbeat. "Not the fastest ride, but a hell of a lot faster than a dewback and they don't die easy. A place like this has parts --"</p><p>She pushed a stray lock of hair from her braid back, and much as she dreaded to, she needed to ask, "But will it take as long to fix as riding a dewback to the flats?"</p><p>"It'd take less time than watering one and waiting until it rests so you can go back.” </p><p>Point. He laughed at her expression and tugged her close for a kiss, his hands cupping her face. The kiss was soft, but Mara felt his chest heave with his breath, between 
 the dampness of his tunic, the fresh sweat on his skin, and his arms around her, an entirely different tendril of heat swooped through her, her mind revisiting last time they’d been together. Had it been the day before yesterday? Seemed like too long ago. They hadn't even slept in the same room last night.</p><p>And he was so on edge, so why not try for a distraction? She <i>wanted</i> to have him gasping again, feel him heavy on her tongue. The back of a parked landspeeder jutted out by the mouth of the alley, blocking it off, making it acceptably discreet. </p><p>He wasn't hard, but she could get him there, use her hands for a bit before finishing him off with her mouth, or maybe it'd be best without preamble. Yes. Best to make it quick.</p><p>She slid her hand down, and started sinking to her knees --</p><p>"Wai--” For a split second she thought it was a pleased surprise, then with a hissed “No! No-no-no," El was pulling her up decisively. "Not here. Not here."</p><p>Her face flamed, a sick feeling already spreading in her stomach like she'd pushed a joke too far. Like she'd misread him entirely and <i>worse</i>, treated him, them, cheaply. But it was hard to hold onto the embarrassment when El was pulling her so close, arms bruisingly tight around her. </p><p>"Later," he murmured against her temple. "Later." There was something apprehensive about the way the words fell from his lips, and right then it didn't feel like he'd taken it as a slight at all. She could ignore her miss and wrap her own arms around his waist holding onto him back. Of course later.</p><p>"I have to take a look at the speeders if we want to get back before the last transport leaves," he muttered, letting his hands fall away.</p><p>"The owner was a Bothan. Sound like someone that could recognize you?" She didn’t need to know the details, she told herself. El had gone through enough the past days without her making him relive more. It was the least she could do.</p><p>He made a soft acknowledging sound. "Probably won’t remember me without my uncle around."</p><p>"Good," she said. "That’s good.” </p><p>He gave her a sad smile and gestured her ahead.</p><p>“Changed your mind, eh?” the Bothan said when she went inside the store. The Bothan’s eyes flickered to El, the headscarf and his sunbleached fringe covering most of his face as he stared down at his boots. The Bothan's gaze didn't linger and he turned to Mara before long. “They’re solid mounts.”</p><p>Mara shook her head. “Tell me about the T-44s you got.”</p><p>“We’re not a repair shop. Don't got the hands for it. They're here for parts. Easiest one to get running would need its actuator fully rewired at least. Maybe some more.”</p><p>“You have the spare actuator model and corresponding wiring?”</p><p>The Bothan’s eyes glinted. “Something like it, sure. You gonna work on it, Miss?" And still he added, "Be a lot easier to grab one at Tosche.”</p><p>“Might be,” she conceded. "But tell me about them anyway."</p><p> --</p><p>Turned out the T-44 not only needed its actuator rewired, but its fuel gauge replaced, a couple of nozzles tightened, and as usual, a thorough cleaning of its repulsor vents. The process went by relatively quick between both of them.  </p><p>Mara had sent El off to the junkyard while she paid half upfront. Occupied with his estimate, the Bothan hadn't given him a second look. El had gotten a set of tools and was already elbow deep in one of the T-44's lateral turbine engines when Mara plodded over after grabbing an extra set.</p><p>The owner had probably been waiting for someone to ask about the T-44s all along, El told her while she started up the diagnostic check. He’d had already done right to point her to a more convenient place, El added when Mara commented on the Bothan's easy dismissal of him. He wasn't going to ruin the sell now by asking too many questions. Beings here were decent, not stupid.</p><p>A few hours later, Mara sat in the pilot’s seat and fired up the repulsors. The landspeeder gave a clacking sound -- the nozzles weren’t the best fit they could have been -- but the repulsors turned on. </p><p>El leaned over the door, wiping his forehead with his tunic sleeve. “I wouldn’t pilot this for more than a week, but--”</p><p>“A day, you mean” she corrected with a look of distaste at the controls. “This thing is basically two reams of space tape and three wires away from stranding us.”</p><p>“If it were some Core 'lux line.” He grinned at her, in a much better mood ever since he’d gotten a crateful of tools and a flagging repulsorlift. “But it's a T-44. The nozzles don’t sound pretty, but they’ll hold as long as the servocoolant doesn’t need to be replaced.”</p><p>She hmph’ed and checked the sensors, slapping at the darkened nav screen a couple of times to no avail. “We don’t have nav, either."</p><p>El had come up on the other side and was busy checking the gauges. ”Don’t need the nav.”</p><p>"Right,” she gave a long suffering sigh, remembering his aversion last time at that suicide canyon. “I should pilot though.”</p><p>He lifted his head and she caught the challenging spark in his eyes. “How come?”</p><p>She shut the repulsors off and went to close the account, calling behind her, “Because you barely slept last night.”</p><p>“I slept fine,” came El’s retort.</p><p>She came back with the Bothan to do the final accounting. He rattled off a number that seemed low, but El made a soft noise from beside her as he tidied their work area, and muttered another, lower number. She gave that one to the Bothan who gave her a grudgingly accepting look before firing off one more only slightly higher. El didn’t say anything so Mara paid and the Bothan went back to the front.</p><p>“It’s not a hard trip out to the desert then deeper into the flats,” El said, toweling his face, picking up from where they last left off and Mara almost groaned.</p><p> “Sounds like something I could do while you nap,” she said instead. They picked up the remaining tools they needed to return to a specific compartment at the storage area.</p><p>“I am <i>not</i> going to nap.”</p><p>“You should,” she said mildly. “We can’t be careless now.” </p><p>“Is it about the nightmare? I told you it's fine. I'm fine."  They deposited the tools at their corresponding location. The side door to the garage hissed open, a couple of human men walking in with a hoversled of crates. "And if it's about the leg---"</p><p>“I don’t want to argue, El. I think it's been a few...difficult days -- for both of us. You should take it easy. I'm not saying this to be irritating or--” </p><p>He rubbed at his forehead. "Mara, I don't think--”</p><p>“Skywalker?”</p><p>El stiffened, casting a brief look in the direction of the voice and turned away.</p><p>One of the men several paces away peered in their direction. He had longish dark hair in a style she gathered was common here and a square jaw, looking maybe five or six years older than she and El. He and his companion were clad in the light patterned tunics of the locals, not too different from the simple ones the monastery had given them.</p><p>She couldn’t sense danger from the man, but so much apprehension seeped from El that Mara found herself bristling and squaring her feet. It didn’t matter because El quickly grabbed her arm and yanked her with him, weaving their way down a path littered with open crates and large machine parts. With his other hand he adjusted his hood.</p><p>“Hey, Skywalker! That really you?"</p><p><i>Skywalker</i>? A nickname? “You know him?” she whispered, but El only pulled her insistently out back, her boots scraping on the gravel. Someone with a connection to his relatives?</p><p>“Was wondering what happened to you,” the man continued, and Mara felt him several feet behind them as they exited the enclosed storage area and crossed the arched portal into the junkyard.</p><p>Whoever he was, this man needed to leave them alone.</p><p>“Go,” she hissed to El, wrenching her arm free from his grip. </p><p>“I think you’re confused," she spoke up to the man, feeling the snap of El’s look to her. Why hadn’t he followed her instructions and kept going? “We’re not from here."</p><p>The man scrutinized her for a second, then looked past her to where El stood, face averted. “They came looking for you, you know.”</p><p>Jabba's people. This was exactly what they needed now. And why was he so fixated on El?</p><p>Mara threaded her voice with warning. "You need to leave us alone.”</p><p>The man was about to reply when his companion yelled out from within the storage area, “Hey Fixer, need a little help here!”</p><p>With the man distracted, El darted towards her and grabbed her arm, all but dragging her towards the speeder in quick strides.</p><p>“To the shop,” Mara heard the man call behind them and he was back on the move behind them, accusatory, “Came to the shop and gave me and Camie a hard time --”</p><p>But El hadn’t dealt with Jabba’s people before -- or had he? Mara slid her free hand into the vee of her tunic towards her DL, the cool metal at her fingertips reassuring, even as El kept pulling her along.</p><p>“Fixer, come on. I don’t got all day!” the other man insisted, his voice fainter now that they were out in the open lot.</p><p>There was so much coiled tension in El as he opened the speeder’s passenger side that Mara half thought he’d shove her inside, but what if the man attacked?</p><p>“In a minute!” the man finally yelled back. “Said you did it. Burned it all to hide the evidence. Suppose you knew that.” </p><p>El flinched, his reaction so strong through the Force yet...muddled. Not scared, Mara could pick out, but upset  -- and vigilant -- but of what? And what did the man even mean by <i>did it</i>? Her stomach plunged. If it <i>was</i> Jabba and he knew they were here...</p><p> "'Course you did," the man continued, something like sour pity in his tone. "But did you know about Biggs? Word is he's dead too."</p><p>Mara felt the words hit El like a blow. She’d have to separate the man from his companion somehow, or take the companion too if they were both Jabba's Mara thought, grinding her teeth, but her DL was much noisier than her holdout and Anchorhead wasn't like Mos Eisley, so she’d -- </p><p>"Mara, get in." El's hand tightened on her arm. </p><p>"Messed up old man Darklighter real bad when he heard.”</p><p>“He's one of Jabba's," Mara told El under her breath, eyes fixed on the man who stared at El. "That's a threat." </p><p>“Fixer," came the voice from deeper inside. "I swear to the Gods--”</p><p>"If he were,” El replied softly, “I would deal with him myself." </p><p>“Coming, I said!"  </p><p>What did that even mean? She was about to scoff, but when she turned to him, El’s expression stopped her with a seriousness she didn't think she'd seen before. </p><p>“Thought you should know since you and Biggs were close.”</p><p>Mara’s head snapped towards the man again, but he was already turning to leave.</p><p>"We have to go," El said tightly. “Come on.”</p><p>Mara slid into the landspeeder, still a bit wary as El shut her door and crossed over the front to get in. She let silence fall between them as El piloted them out, turning her head to the side viewport to stare as the few low buildings vanished and the desert yawned wide before them. The salt flats had none of the canyon shadows that the Wastes had. They only seemed endless, the glare of the suns making the horizon shimmer and undulate. Looking for too long hurt her eyes. </p><p>She wanted to ask about the man. El seemed so pained by it all and the man, while not setting off obvious alarms, had seemed...less than friendly. Obviously there'd been some...history between him and the man, but what kind? Who’d gone looking for El? His family? He had said they'd brought him back when he'd run away before. What had he done? Burned <i>what</i> -- </p><p>None of her business, she told herself for the millionth time. If the man wasn’t a threat then none of that mattered. The trip to get their supplies went by in silence with Mara waiting for some kind of explanation, but none came. They arrived at the area the beacon flagged again and dug up the supplies, packing the weapons back up into one of the new duffel and slid them into the back of the speeder. </p><p>El had packed the rest of their supplies in a second duffel at the foot of the body bag. When Mara opened it up to check, she found some spare clothing for both of them, toiletries and other personal effects...and the journal El had taken from the hut. She should have left the damn thing behind at the desert, but didn't. She looked at it now, her stomach churning, thinking she'd made a mistake. El approached, eyes hooded, and she’d zipped the duffel up as if she hadn't seen anything, wordlessly letting him pack it into the speeder. Minutes later they were zipping off. </p><p>It was cowardly not to bring it up, she thought. Carrying that journal was dangerous. She should say something. She <i>needed</i> to say something. </p><p>But she couldn’t find the will for it, not now with this oddly charged atmosphere, and realized something else. “Wait, I forgot to give you the map to the Lars’ property.” She pulled out her datapad.</p><p>“I know where it is.” </p><p>Mara’s eyes flickered in his direction, picking out a grim set to his features. Maybe he thought it was morbid to go back to the scene of someone’s death. After all that had happened especially. He’d seemed so flustered when he’d said the Lars had died in a fire. Had he known it'd been Tuskens all along? Decided not to tell her fearing she would consider it too dangerous to take him? She nearly grimaced at the memory of their last argument.</p><p>“I won’t take too long," she said. "All I’m looking for are signs of someone having lived there after the attack.”</p><p>“Your hostile.”</p><p>She nodded though something about how he said it sounded off.  “It’s low priority. The trail’s been cold for too long for it not to be, but I’d like to tell my master I was thorough. We can go back to Mos Espa once I can document that I went and saw what was left, talked to a neighbor or two.”</p><p>Mara glanced at him again. “At Mos Espa we should probably check you into their medcenter, so they can give you follow up.” It would have been simpler to continue the checks at Mos Eisley. “And you’ll remember to keep getting monitored --” she caught herself and stopped. </p><p>He turned his head slightly. “Monitored and?”</p><p>“Nothing.” Had she been more careful, he wouldn’t need the recovery time either. </p><p>“You’re not feeling guilty again, are you?”</p><p>Mara didn’t answer. There was no point.</p><p>“All sorts of --”</p><p>“So help me,” she interrupted, resting her head on her hand by the door and flashing him a glare. “If you quote that blasted expression at me again, I'll lean over and choke you. I don’t care if you're piloting or how good you are with your hands.” </p><p>He smiled a little at that and for a second the gloom lifted.</p><p>She’d tell him tonight, she decided. Everything, including all she could do for him, all the strings she could pull. Mara snuck another look at him, a painful squeeze in her chest. </p><p>“What?” </p><p>Mara drew in a soft breath and  forced a smile, feeling its shakiness. “I have only today and tomorrow left here. It feels...short. Too short.”</p><p>He slid his hand over hers. “You’re saying you want to stay?” </p><p>She snorted, turning her hand to give his a squeeze. “Never. This blasted planet has tried to kill me too many times.” That ache in her chest refused to go away, but she felt some of the weight of the previous hours begin to lift. “Is it D’qar still?”</p><p>El flashed her a lopsided smile. “I think so.”</p><p>“Jungles. That’ll be a change of pace.” She wanted to ask, would you retake the aptitudes, will you rise up the ranks and find me again? I would pave the way for you as much as I could. I would do anything...Mara lowered her gaze to her lap, the words catching in her throat. It wasn't the right time. Best to do it with his identicard in hand. He'd know then she was utterly serious.</p><p>Mara thought of what she could say, what she would say when the time was right: <i>you are so talented, you can have any future you wish...</i></p><p>El would choose a future with her. Of course he would,and she'd give him prestige, power, purpose, everything she could possibly acquire for him. Her master would know just how much they could offer him, together.</p><p>"Mara," El called, and she blinked awake, not realizing she'd fallen asleep. She rubbed at her face, sneaking a sheepish glance at El, expecting a tease after earlier, but he was staring straight ahead where cirrocumulus clouds were tearing away from the yellow glare of Tatoo II as it shaded into the blood red of Tatoo I below. Under the sinking sun, a dome had come into view, between the suns and battered ground, it looked very small against the black of the horizon.</p><p>When she faced El his expression was as closed as it had been when they’d left Anchorhead.</p><p>“We’re here,” he said.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Chapter 28</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><a href="https://teagrl.tumblr.com/post/642137242549338112/tatooine-sunset-by-gimena-ferrari-treason-mara">Playlist</a> for 26-29.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mara wasn’t sure what she’d expected, perhaps a homestead like Sarloo’s. The Lars property did have some similarities in the central dome, the land, however, once they got past the defunct outer security perimeter, seemed much smaller, barren save for scattered vaporators. As they trudged to the central dome, she had fallen into pace with El. The uneasiness in him had ratcheted up to the point she’d almost suggested he wait for her, but she'd kept to her resolution. No arguments now. He could decide for himself. Still, Mara didn’t know why they were approaching so cautiously -- there was only the most smallest possibility that anyone was there.</p><p>Like the buildings at Anchorhead, the dome seemed to be of pourstone make, but it charred up and chipping, a dark portrusion on the sand. Behind the central dome, and just in front of them, was an open pit which functioned as a courtyard and a metallic tech dome behind that. Mara approached the courtyard, squinted down against the waning light of the sunset, making out several arched doorways that looked carved into sandstone. A couple of large vaporators jutted out from the center.</p><p>“The power generator,” she mused to El a few feet away, “can't be engaged unless--”</p><p>“The entrance is over here." El strode towards the central dome. She wandered back after a moment, and caught El looking at her warily. He’d somehow gotten the entrance door open through bypassing the smashed access panel, and working with the complicated wiring within. The power throughout the whole farm had come on with a metallic hum. Mara threw him a small smile, impressed at how fast he'd been. Rigging speeders, access systems -- his skills at improvisation would set him apart at the Academy.</p><p>The door revealed a stairwell not unlike the one at Mos Eisley, a little narrower, opposite a turbolift, lit up by tenuous ambient lights on the walls, a smell of stale air wafting up. For a second she was taken back to her furious rush down the stairs, the fall, the Wookiee pounding at the door. A sudden cold sweat gathered at her nape.</p><p>“What is it?” El asked, inching closer.</p><p>Mara shook herself. She didn't trust the turbolift if the lights were that dim, indicating low power. Last thing she needed was to get stuck. </p><p>“Nothing.” She forced herself ahead through a short underground corridor, past an open door to a darkened space. She reached out with the Force, a pall of sorrow thick about the place, saturating it. It took her a second to intuit that it wasn’t the bad memory -- or rather, not hers. El’s feelings then, and deeper than just a bad memory. She didn't know exactly what about here was familiar to him, but something was, and it called an upswell of pain that scrapped at her awareness, making her chest tighten.</p><p>Mara continued through the corridor noticing the gouges in the stone, shunting the emotion aside. Odd to feel someone else’s feelings this sharply. She focused on her footing until she came to another, shorter set of stairs and the courtyard opened up before them, sand-flooded and eerily lit all around by the same quivering lighting at the walls. The vaporators Mara had seen at the center loomed before her. She approached tentatively, raising her head to look at them more closely, the sand swishing at her feet. Battered husks, the vaporators held traces of violence in their blackened, dented in exteriors. Along the walls metallic components lay half buried in the excess sand on the ground, she kicked some sand aside and squatted for a closer look -- seemed like the outer casing of a power droid. </p><p>A new presence flashed into being in her awareness. She drew her DL out, aligning herself in front of El, who jumped at her motion. He hadn't even gotten the holdout, she registered with dismay. "Wh--"</p><p>"Someone's here," Mara yanked him with her as she ducked behind the vaporators, "Stay behind me."</p><p>Sure enough, she heard something scrape. Across the courtyard -- from one of those carved-in rooms, one with a speck of light inside, the only one. </p><p>“The storage,” El murmured by her ear.</p><p>She closed her eyes, reaching out through the Force. It didn’t feel hostile, but it...wasn’t human.</p><p>“Alien." All right then. Surprise was her best bet. </p><p>“Mara!” El hissed as Mara snuck closer to the room, noting a couple of shelving units still standing within -- places for an intruder to hide. She crossed the courtyard swiftly, pressing herself flat against the wall beside the open doorway to the room, frowning at El darting beside her. He should have stayed put.</p><p>It moved, made that scraping noise at about three o’clock.</p><p>Mara burst into the room, raising her DL, pulling on the Force for confirmation, her arm shifting in a way that felt right -- except that El shoved it off-center as she snapped the shot. The bolt hit next to the creature -- a Rodian --which let out a shriek as sparks scattered.</p><p>“Don’t fucking do that!” she snapped at El, her blood still loud in her ears.</p><p>“He’s not going to hurt us!" he shot back.</p><p>She kept her blaster trained on the Rodian. “And you know how--” </p><p>“I’m not!” The Rodian yelled in Basic, his hands raised. "I'm not!"</p><p>She lowered the blaster, glaring at El who added a pointed, “See?” </p><p>“Don’t take his word for it," she muttered, but nothing in the Force signaled danger. The trespasser, lit by a glowrod a few feet away, looked up at her with his long fingered hands still up, then turned his head to peer up at El, jolting once he did.</p><p>“Who are you?” Mara asked.</p><p>He hadn’t shifted his face from El, who'd gone to hit a switch behind the shelving unit. It took Mara a moment to realize the generator's low power meant that all room lighting required a manual engage. “Zef Ando,” the Rodian said.</p><p>“You’re not supposed to be here, Zef Ando.” She looked over to El who looked distinctly uncomfortable under the Rodian’s scrutiny, staring out into the courtyard now. “Hey, <i>I’m</i> talking to you.”</p><p>“I wasn’t planning on staying long.” Ando looked at her, tone faintly apologetic as he spoke. “Place was abandoned when I got here.”</p><p>“And when was that?”</p><p>“'Bout a week ago.”</p><p>El cleared his throat. “He’s not your hostile.”</p><p>“Obviously.” Mara couldn’t keep the sharp note out of her voice. “He’s not human. But he might know something.” She turned back to Ando. “How’d you get in here anyway?”</p><p>Ando hesitated before mumbling, "Worked here before. Access system isn’t hard to rig if you got the know-how.” He kept staring in El’s direction, then looking back t o her. “For Master Lars a couple of seasons. Thought to ask if he needed help this one.” </p><p>“You didn’t know of the attack?” Mara asked, snapping her head to El at the spike of emotion from him.</p><p>"What attack?” Ando asked.</p><p>She gestured to the courtyard. How did he not know the story? “Tuskens.”</p><p>He shook his head at her. “That what they say? Guess I saw some gaffi marks out there, but..." He made a trumpeting sound. "Strange. The inner security perimeter's autoloc keeps it on, sort of. Be surprised if they could break through it. 'Sides Tuskens only care about what they can grab right quick. In and out, exit route always in sight. They won’t bother with room to room like this. They know it’s only a matter of time before people get their neighbors and their ‘throwers and the payback starts.”</p><p>Room to room in search of the missing droid, no doubt. "I’m looking for someone who might have stayed here at one point. Human. Male. My age. Did you see any indications that someone else might have come by this place before you did?”</p><p>“Who’s looking?”</p><p>She wasn’t about to give up her identity to a squatter. “None of your damn business, and seeing as you’re illegally inhabiting the premises, I’d talk,” she growled about to raise her DL again.</p><p>“Easy." El pushed her arm down decisively, keeping his hand on her forearm. "He's not--”</p><p>“I didn’t see anything,” Ando interrupted. “No one was here, figured it’d be okay to stay for a bit since I had nowhere else -- didn’t even stay in the main quarters.”</p><p>Mara took in the room, the open space where he'd set up a small bedroll, the glowrod and a pack. He'd pushed some storage racks all the way to the back, cleared the most of the sand and dust off the floor. </p><p>Ando made another sound, those insect eyes fixed in the floor. “I’m real sorry about this. The Lars were always fair and -- and kind.”</p><p>Why would he say that -- but a flare of pained feeling gouged through her awareness blaring out her confusion. Beside her, El drew a shaky breath, dropping his hand from her arm, reminding her that the sooner they got out of here, the better. Reaching out Mara couldn’t sense anything suspicious, but with aliens you never knew. El feeling like this was making it hard to concentrate. </p><p>“According to the reports,” she said, trying to shut El’s feelings out. “Owen and Beru Lars were murdered, but they had a son or nephew. Whoever he is, he supposedly escaped and didn’t return.” </p><p>She expected Ando to express some surprise at the survivor but all he simply said was, “Can you blame a being?”</p><p>“You have any sense where he would have gone? Other relatives in the area, maybe?” At the very least she could include that in her report.</p><p>He shook his head, looking down at the ground again. “I was just a hand, Miss. I don’t know anything.”</p><p>Mara felt El turn away wordlessly behind her. Maybe the space might help both of them. She let the Rodian scamper away and holstered her blaster while she took a cursory look via glowrod at the next room over. These were the living quarters, the dining room next to the storage area with its charred, overturned table, a debris-strewn galley kitchen past it, walls rendered ashy, counters overrun with pieces of dusty, burned out appliances, dishes, and other material strewn across the floor covered with sand and dirt, all crunching under her feet. A small refresher station untouched but in disrepair opened up beside the dinner and kitchen areas.</p><p>Passing the storage on her way back, she saw Ando and El had returned there. Ando was speaking to him in a voice too low for Mara to hear, his suckered hand resting on El's shoulder while El's head was bowed.</p><p>A weird feeling knotted itself around her sternum, and she pushed it aside as she darted away. Ando had known El. Why he'd said nothing about it was beyond her. Maybe something to do with El’s estranged family. Maybe he was assuring him now he wouldn’t tell them he ran into him.</p><p>The thought somehow made her uneasy, brought back the tumult from earlier -- that man yelling after El -- and she touched her shoulder, feeling the dig of the holster under her tunic. He wouldn’t have to go back anyway. No matter what. Mara continued to the other side glimpsing another living area past some stairs. Blowing out a breath, she forced herself through another cursory examination, this time of a small loft bedroom. </p><p>Her glowrod illuminated more ashy refuse, broken pieces of a charred computer, crushed monitor, and other wreckage she couldn't make out. Small insects scurried away when she pushed aside a piece of a datapad by the remains of a desk. The nephew’s room, she assumed. The main bedroom at the opposite side wasn’t too different, more debris, the carcass of overturned storage bins, pieces of a cracked vase and other decorative stoneware maybe. That left the open doorway she’d spied when they first came in -- the garage, the her glowrod revealed. Past fuel rigs for several vehicles long gone were various stations for droid upkeep, soundly smashed and charred up, droid parts litered on the ground, and a wrecked access platform, durasteel beams bent weirdly. A small explosion? For the cover up, no doubt. Making it look like savages had done it.</p><p>Mara stopped, her glowrod illuminating a lubricant vat. And regardless, the droid hadn't been found. He'd reached his target, unearthed a Jedi, and the Empire had paid dearly -- even after making an example out of Alderaan. All that spilled blood for nothing. Because of <i>this</i>, this speck of nowhere that showed the Rebels that they could keep fighting the inevitable. She closed her eyes.</p><p>Her master would crush them, of course he would, in time, but who was to say there wouldn't be more retaliation from another speck of nowhere before then?</p><p>There was a lot of nowhere in the galaxy.</p><p>That was enough. Mara rolled her shoulders back and cracked her neck. She wasn't at her sharpest. The mix of tension and...sorrow didn't let up. Not hers, Mara reminded herself, rubbing her temples. Well, not totally hers. She wasn’t all that sure about her tension level, wouldn’t be until she got back outside. It wouldn't even be worth going to the Marstraps or the Darklighters. She doubted she'd learn anything new from them.</p><p>Second twilight had come and gone when she emerged from the way she came. The canopy of stars blinked down overhead, the air already starting to cool. Faint light trickled through the struggling perimeter lights. Mara was surprised they’d come on at all given their long period of disuse. They were in even worse shape than the lights at the stairs and courtyard, mostly swallowed by the encroaching dark of the desert evening. </p><p>Mara had held hope of finding El waiting by the speeder, but he was still downstairs. She settled to wait feeling the minutes tick by, leaning back against the T-44’s side, trying not to think about Bestine.</p><p>To work endlessly for something as essential as <i>water</i>, she thought instead, looking out to the dark nothingness all around her, something she’d never considered  before stepping into this forsaken planet. And yet, the Lars hadn’t lacked basic necessities based on what she’d seen around their now-ruined homestead. </p><p>Had they once? Mara thought of the Rodian youngling in his tattered tunic at the Mos Eisley market, the inked slaves at the Mos Espa gambling den, many underage. El's own scars. The rapacious gangs. Had moisture farming given the Lars nothing at the beginning? Had they once not had enough to eat? Was that why they’d turned traitors?</p><p>And was this what they conspired <i>for</i>? -- a middling existence in a forsaken planet? And in the end, death.</p><p>Loyalty had to be worth more than this. Even here.</p><p>Mara wrapped her arms around herself, warding off the evening wind. Beings fell between the cracks all the time. It happened at the Imperial City too. Not everyone turned traitor...and yet, that wasn't it exactly. She felt as if she were reaching for something elusive, her thoughts grasping at only fragments to something much larger she was too tired, too <i>sad</i> to put together.</p><p>She felt El come up and step up beside her and straightened up. It'd been a while, but she was simply grateful not to have to linger in more disquieting thoughts. He felt better, still sad, but the feeling was not as sharp, like he’d reached some sort of resolution with something. That was good, she supposed. </p><p>“Let's go back," she told him, sighing. " I’m sorry to have brought you here for no--”</p><p>"The Empire is looking for me," he said quietly.</p><p>Mara tilted her head, gazing at his face in profile against the dim lights. "What?"</p><p>"The Empire is looking for me."</p><p>She flashed him an odd look. "What are you talking about?"</p><p>"For about a year."</p><p>El stayed silent for several beats. He should have stayed behind. All this was <i>hurting</i> him. Why had she ever agreed to have him join her? </p><p>“Let’s go, El." She reached out to touch his arm, wanting pull him close. That was enough of all of this. They would go back to Anchorhead now, to Mos Espa and it would get better from there. “We’re done--”</p><p>He didn’t move. "Tuskens didn't do this."</p><p>She squeezed his arm gently. "El--"</p><p>"Imperial stormtroopers did it."</p><p>Mara froze. </p><p>"I saw it," he whispered. "They were looking for something and they cracked several vaporators, damaged a couple of Treadwells. My uncle didn’t like it and said something. So they shot him.”</p><p>Mara’s mind reeled. “Wait. Wait,” she half gasped. “Your uncle?”</p><p>He turned his head to meet her eyes. “Owen Lars.” </p><p>Mara sucked in a breath. </p><p>“Then they...my aunt was next. Me too, but I’d been on the south range on my way up and they were too busy torching the place. Burning the bodies. I couldn’t...” He closed his eyes, shadows moving over them. His voice was barely audible. "I ran."</p><p>Mara blinked. The nephew, then, her mind processed numbly. What was the name? Started with ‘L’, she couldn’t--</p><p>“My name’s Luke,” he said.  “My real name.”</p><p>But the man -- the man at the general store he’d called him --</p><p>“Skywalker.” He nodded, and Mara realized she’d murmured it. El’s hand was warm over hers, the intimacy of the simple gesture giving the scene a surreal cast. “My father’s last name. My aunt and uncle kept it. My aunt’s folks at Anchorhead hid me for a few days, but Imperials came asking around there too. Said I was a Rebel. I wasn't." His throat worked. "And my aunt and uncle hadn’t been either, but the stormtroopers hadn’t cared. When they grabbed my aunt Dama, I ran again. ” </p><p>El, she thought. ‘L’ how...stupid.</p><p>“Sold the speeder at Mos Eisley for credits for a transport to Mos Espa. At least I didn’t know anyone they could hurt there.”</p><p>Inconceivable. Or was it? Hadn't she witnessed the rampant corruption at Mos Eisley? And even before, hadn't LaRone and his men had turned deserters after refusing to slaughter civilians? And still...she shut her eyes tightly, not wanting to believe. </p><p>But that's why she'd never approached ISB about LaRone and them. It was more than just her word against theirs. The Empire couldn’t afford to be merciful anymore. Not after Yavin. If you were tarred as a traitor, as disloyal, true or not, that would be it.</p><p>That would be the end of it.</p><p>“Why…" she croaked. The very ground under her feet was shifting. She felt the lurch at the pit of her stomach. "Why did you bring me here?” </p><p>He gave her a crooked smile. “I don’t want to keep who I am from you anymore. And,” he half turned towards the dome, now a shadow against the pinpricked sky not one of three moons in sight. “I wanted to say goodbye. I never,” his voice hitched a little, "never got a real chance to. Everything happened so fast...”</p><p>"El...Luke." She closed her eyes. “I’m-I’m,” the words felt gritty in her mouth, “an Imperial agent." </p><p>He didn’t withdraw his hand. “I know.”</p><p>Pain was flaring up just below the hollow of her throat. She’d thought -- she’d <i>hoped</i>...It was too much.</p><p>She drew in a breath and the words materialized, "What you say...is against everything the Empire stands for. It needs--Someone needs to answer for this. I can investig--”</p><p>"That’s not why I told you, Mara,” he said gently.</p><p>“You're right to leave, El-- Luke,” she went on with that same briskness. It came readily, as if everything hadn't suddenly turned upside-down. “Make a new start for yourself. You owe it to yourself and--”</p><p>“Come with me.”</p><p>The words died in her mouth.</p><p>“I have nothing, absolutely nothing to offer you. No credits, no titles, nothing. Nothing at all. I know that.” </p><p>It was absurd. As absurd as the way her heart heaved in her chest when he stepped even closer, one hand rising to curve against her cheek, his warmth bleeding into her. Suddenly, she was anything but numb. </p><p>"But you love me. And I love you, and I -- I can make you happy. I know I can. We’ll be happy."</p><p>Treason, Mara thought, feeling her throat tighten. This is treason. </p><p>A shake started building at the base of her spine. </p><p>"Because you love me." It was as if someone else, not her, had whispered the words.</p><p>Someone else feeling the pad of his thumb rub across her cheekbone, and trembling out of the sheer longing --</p><p>"More than anything. I can't...I don't want to imagine not seeing you again, not being with you. I can't. I don’t want to."</p><p>“El-- Luke.” She balled her hands into fists, swallowed, feeling as if she were clawing for solid ground while everything was breaking away. "You're asking me to --"</p><p>“Leave everything.” He nodded once, solemn. "I am."</p><p>“But you -- you don't know me. And I," Mara wanted to take a step back, but she felt rooted to the spot, held in place by the familiar feel of his hand against her cheek, blinking again and again as if she could wake up. "I don't...know you. It’s only been weeks and--and no--"</p><p>His expression grew pained as his hand fell from her cheek. "It's -- It's too much to ask. I know that too, but --”</p><p>She set her chin, knowing what she <i>should </i>say, “I’m an Imper--”</p><p>"I don't care about any of that. Just you.”</p><p>She opened her mouth but again, nothing came. <i>Just you</i>, it echoed in her head. Just you. Just you. Just her. It felt...absolute. </p><p>It felt impossible.</p><p>As impossible as the dream of him coming with <i>her</i>. The future they could have had, now gone. Dead.</p><p>“I can’t, El,” it left her in a broken whisper, “I can’t.”</p><p>She could see the hope on his face fracture into disappointment, and it hurt her too. Her feet moved without her intent, barely a step, and Mara brought a hand to his neck and pulled him close, her lips at his temple, words rushing out of her, "What happened to your family was wrong. That's not the Empire. It's not us. Those were nothing more than -- than scum, <i>animals</i> and I <i>can</i> find them. I <i>will</i> find them. I swear. I will bring them to justice. I can, El -- Luke." She stumbled over the unfamiliar name. She drew back to face him. “I work for the Emperor himself, Luke. He’s my master, and I can find the people who did this to you, in his name. It’s what I do. I carry out his justice.” Even as she said it, it felt paltry. </p><p>Her master’s justice had never felt paltry before.</p><p>“The Emperor?” he echoed slowly. </p><p>She forced a smile. “I answer to him as his Hand.” She lowered her hand to his arm, staring up into his eyes. “That is who I am. His Hand. And he <i>will</i> listen when I --”</p><p>He interrupted her with a bruising kiss. Mara’s hands curled into his tunic. She’d thought she could have him. Not now maybe, but someday. A gift, a reward. She’d thought there’d been a chance.</p><p>Mara broke the kiss, threw her arms tightly around him.</p><p>“Stay one more day,” she heard him murmur into her hair. “Just one. We’ll head back to Mos Espa tonight. Stay until the day after tomorrow. Please. I know I should have told you earlier--”</p><p>Mara shushed him, pressing her forehead against his tunic. What was one more day? Nothing. It was nothing.</p><p>“All right,” she whispered, shutting her eyes tightly. "All right."</p>
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<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Chapter 29</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Okay, so this chapter lengthened more than I expected. For reading, achiving, and general tidiness purposes given this fic's length, I'm dropping it as a two-chapter instead of making it a super long one or prolonging the week-long wait. I'm so desperate to be done. Did I really just start posting this last March??? GAH.</p><p>So hang with me for just a bit longer, guys. I'm reasonably sure it's a chapter and an epilogue after these (I'm scared writing /32 will jinx it). I feel like from here on in my end game's pretty obvious.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Mara?”</p><p>She summoned a reflexive smile at El--Luke from where she stood by the general store’s door. He'd been selling their now-running T-44 landspeeder back. It was weird to her, but El had assured her on their ride over wouldn’t be to the owner, and judging how quick the sale had gone, she guessed he'd been right.  El didn't feel put off either. He must have gotten a good price for it.</p><p>Luke. His name was <i>Luke</i>, Mara reminded herself as he came over to her. </p><p>He dropped a gentle hand between her shoulders. “You okay?”</p><p>She nodded mechanically, murmuring, "You?" </p><p>He made a noncommittal noise.</p><p>Her thoughts had been going in circles. She’d idly wondered if the owner recognized El now that he’d dealt with him directly. He wouldn’t without his uncle, El had said before. His uncle. Owen Lars. Good people, the Rodian said, the Gotal at the tapcafe too had mentioned something along those lines. Reported as plotters, nonetheless. Tarred as abetters of terrorism. Murdered out of a stormtrooper regimen’s heavy hand? Or to write off blame for losing sensitive material? Had it been that premeditated? </p><p>But El was speaking again, “...should be leaving in about thirty though realistically more like an hour.”</p><p>Mara blinked. Transport, right.</p><p>His hand slid down her arm to clasp her hand as they walked up the way they’d come earlier in the day, the street now illuminated by fusion lamps. The wind had started picking up, dust and sand biting into her eyes, making whipping noises against a few fabric canopies nearby. </p><p>At the transport depot, El left her at the waiting area with the bags while he paid for their credits with the speeders' amount. Mara objected at first. She’d wanted El, no <i>Luke</i>, to keep the credits, but he’d insisted. She couldn’t muster the will for an argument now, either. He'd be getting all of her spare credits and everything else anyway--</p><p>She didn’t want to think about that yet.</p><p>El hadn't been feeling any more upbeat since they'd left the homestead, but his despondency had leveled off. It wasn’t as distracting as it’d been, or maybe she was feeling so off-kilter about...everything that she couldn’t register it with the same depth. When he returned, they sat there in the same blank silence that had hung over them for the past hour. El drew an arm around her shoulders, and she sighed, leaning into him as she’d done so many times. She felt...lost, like all she had was the present, this flight to Mos Espa, dinner, beyond it was...static.</p><p>And then something tangible surfaced. “You’ll remember to go to the medcenter?” she finally whispered. “The sooner you get cleared, the sooner you can leave.”</p><p>He didn't answer. Mara let it go, going back to listlessly watching the techs bustle about readying the ship, a clunky cargo hauler with a weatherbeaten exterior. The weather report on the lone smudgy monitor across the waiting area predicted a sandstorm sweeping into Mos Espa close to midnight.</p><p>"It might not be too comfortable," El murmured, eyes on the hauler, too, "but the next transport was after midnight."</p><p>Spending hours here was worse than a short flight, regardless. After they made it to Mos Espa, they'd have more than enough time to get in, grab dinner, and find a place to stay the night before the storm hit.</p><p>The crackling announcement system blared that boarding was to begin. They filtered in as part of a mid-sized group of sentients -- all local to Mara's eye -- with little fanfare. There was no formal passenger area inside the hauler. The central compartment they were in held too many cargo crates to accommodate one. Like the rest of the passengers, they sat together on the scratched up deck, huddling near the bulkhead where some rudimentary crash webbing straps were hooked. 

The near-ancient freighter shuddered violently as it lifted off from the hangar, but no one seemed concerned. Nor did they seem alarmed when the shaking continued, the pilot flying like he was trying to beat the wind into plenty of teeth-rattling turbulence. Having settled close, El dropped his head to her shoulder even before they hit set altitude. Mara raised her hand to stroke at his hair, and he'd leaned heavier against her, his breathing becoming even. When she'd looked, his eyes were closed. She continued absentmindedly stroking his hair. </p><p>The medcenter. That was the most critical, she thought. His limp was better, but it was still there. Was that normal? He'd walked a little awkwardly once he'd gotten the brace, but she couldn't remember with enough precision how that compared to his gait now. More than ever, it was important she made sure arrangements were in place at Mos Espa’s medcenter under her clearance. She had one day to straighten that, and then it’d be up to him. She closed her eyes, feeling her stomach twist. He stirred at some point later, straightened up, and rubbed at his face. </p><p>“We’re almost there,” she said, but she doubted he heard much over the roar of the engines. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her temple. </p><p>Mara wrinkled her nose and tapped it. “Smell like an eopie!” she said over the repulsorlifts.</p><p>He kissed her again with a wider smile. "Both of us do!”</p><p>Mara gave him a dismayed look but chuckled. He was rubbing at her back, peering at her with a small smile, and things seemed suddenly brighter than they'd been the whole day. She could almost pretend that the last few hours -- the last few days -- hadn’t happened. That they could be just as carefree as they'd been at the hut. </p><p>But as the transport touched down, she realized she couldn’t. “That man in Anchorhead,” she started slowly, once the repulsorlifts cut and they were waiting for the gangway to open. “Who was he?”</p><p>“Fixer?" El's smile faded. "We called him that anyway. He worked at Tosche Station over at the outskirts.” He passed her a sheepish look. “I wanted to avoid running into him and the rest of them--”</p><p>"A friend?”</p><p>He blew out a breath. “I guess. Mostly, I was just some snot-nosed kid to him. He wasn't a great guy or anything," his face shadowed, "but for them to go after him and Camie. Because of me. Just like them questioning my aunt Dama--”</p><p>“That's behind you," she found herself saying. "You just worry about getting yourself right enough to leave this place.” She grabbed her duffel before he could reply, stood, reaching to help him up as the sentients around them began lining up to exit.</p><p>El didn't say anything more as they walked down the gangway and out of the hangar. The sea of beings and lights and the cacophony of the port city dizzied her after the outpost's smallness, the desolation of the salt flats. El tugged her forward, and they grabbed their meals quickly from a stall not too far and took the containers with them. A few minutes later, the transport depot they'd landed at was growing smaller behind them, the streets widening, traffic bottling up, then leveling out as they exited the district via droid taxi.</p><p>
 Mara wasn’t sure where El was taking them, but it wasn't the part of town they’d been at last time. The buildings gradually got taller, two or three stories high, their facades well-maintained. Fewer sentients dawdled at building corners, between the shadows cast by the fusion lamps; those that did had darker tunics, some of the non-local design. Not the Heights, she guessed, since she hadn't seen many restaurants or other entertainment. They were probably near central authority.</p><p>El stopped their taxi by one of the taller buildings in the area, the fare coming out to double the cost of their transport from Anchorhead, but he didn't attempt to haggle with the droid. Once they walked through the keyhole doorway into the reception area, Mara tamped on her surprise. The reception area was far larger than she expected, gently lit by pendant lights. Fabric in warm colors draped down the ceiling, the woven rugs reminding Mara of those at the Bestine hotel, but here a human man in a dark green tunic sat at the front desk tapping into his terminal with an official air. This was a business hotel. She glanced up at El as she followed him over to one of the benches. </p><p>“I’ll do the check-in.” He put down his bag. The glimmer of the credit chip in his hand caught her eye. His.</p><p>She grabbed his wrist in a tight grip. “Save your credits, El," she stopped, <i>Luke</i>, "Luke. You don’t know what will happen.” Slipping a hand into her tunic's sleeve, she pulled out her indeti-credit. A place like this wouldn't take cash credits. </p><p>He shook his head at her. “It’s more than enough.”</p><p>“Let’s keep it that way."</p><p>“Can I just do this <i>once</i>?” The raw note in his whisper made her release his wrist, and he approached the desk, face a mask of amiable politeness, his strides easy like this was par for the course. </p><p>He said something to the uniformed human receptionist. Was he telling him a story? Or maybe he was playing provincial folk, given their rustic tunics, in town for a special occasion. Mara had to look away, feeling a sharp squeeze in her chest.</p><p>When she made herself look back up, the receptionist had bowed his head, typing something in his terminal, then back up to <i>Luke</i>, she underscored the name in her head. Luke put the chip on the counter. The receptionist took it and ran it through the reader, giving him a card he’d filled out with a stylus like they did at business hotels, probably with the room number and access code.</p><p>Luke came back and grabbed his bag, handing her the card, and she followed him up the stairs to the second floor. He turned right to the room just off the short corridor. The room was about the size of the apartment at Mos Eisley, with a narrow window off to one corner. The view was of the haphazard rooftops surrounding them, but the shifting holopaintings beside the bed and the sturdy wooden table set up with chairs, as well as its relative spaciousness, gave the room a far cheerier air. As Mara took her boots off, her eyes crept to the vase on the bedside table, some succulent curling from it, yellow flowers the size of her fingernails along its stem. They matched the dominant yellow-gold of a sun that glimmered on the reflective water surface in the painting above. The yellow remained as it subtly dissolved into the tall grasses of a prairie landscape. </p><p>He'd arranged their food on the table, and she guessed he had about as much of an appetite as her from the tomolumpar order he'd gotten, same as hers, a sort of vinegary herb, grain, and vegetable concoction meant to be eaten with the flatbread. She didn't mind it, but he generally didn't order anything that mild. He was silent as they ate, expression distant. </p><p>“That time at Bestine,” Mara started, “That place with the enormous tub,” she faltered a bit, but if she didn't ask, she'd never know, and for some reason, this mattered, “When you left after seeing it...”</p><p>Luke chewed for a moment, eyes on his plate. "It was...weird. Kept thinking my uncle would call it a waste and that he...he'd be outraged.” He met her eyes. "I wanted to, but I…" he gave a shake of his head.</p><p>“Oh no, I wasn't asking about...us," Mara gestured to the two of them, not exactly knowing why she'd thought it important to ask, "Just if I...did...anything." She could still call back that desperate feeling in her throat at thinking he wouldn't come back. That had been near a week ago. It shouldn't matter. </p><p>"No." El was staring at her, head slightly tilted. “They were simple people, you know? He and my aunt. Anything other than farming was out. My uncle...tolerated my flying, but I don’t think he ever approved. He wanted me to stay on, thought I’d grow out of wanting to leave."</p><p>"I thought they hurt you." In retrospect, it seemed foolish. "And that you ran away."</p><p>El shook his head. "Stopped that when I was fifteen, or so. All I had to do was wait just a bit longer, I thought." He continued, his voice softer, "I canceled my application because of them. They couldn’t afford any hands, and I couldn’t leave them. I still wanted to. Sometimes I wished I didn’t have anything so I could just go.”
 </p><p>It hit her then -- the destruction of careers and reputations, treason itself, <i>it was this easy.</i> As easy as this, as feeling like you rather have nothing.</p><p>So that you could have something else.</p><p>“Mara?”</p><p>Her mouth felt dry. “It’s not your fault. What happened to them,” she said, her voice sounding too hoarse. She cleared her throat. “In the end, it -- it doesn’t matter whether you wanted to stay or didn’t. That never matters. What matters is that you did. That was right. You did the right thing, El--Luke.” She made a face. “I’m having a hard time with your name. Your real name.”</p><p>“It’s all right. Give it time.” He gave her a smile that didn’t touch his eyes. “The refreshers here have water. No tubs, though.”</p><p>“That’s fine. I would take a bucket." She drew on a light tone to match the one he’d feigned.  “If that’s what they had.” Mara looked around. “This is much nicer than the other places. Really nice.”</p><p>“We’re not exactly in the Heights, but central authority's not far.” He put his used containers and utensils away. </p><p>Mara amassed her own containers. She went for her datapad to scan for the duration of the sandstorm, though realistically, she wouldn’t be able to do anything at Mos Espa Med until the next morning.  </p><p>“Going somewhere?” he spoke over her shoulder, and she glanced up.</p><p>Mara frowned at him, “Medcenter. We have to get you there first thing. Check on that brace.”</p><p>He groaned good-naturedly, and for a second, everything seemed fine again. </p><p>“How did you ever live this long?” she scolded. “They complained about you at Mos Eisley, you know. The nurses. Said you were among the worst patients they’d had." Fidgety, impatient, and generally awful, even sedated. She mimicked his drawl. “<i>But are we done? How long’s it gonna take? Can I go now? I have to go now." </i>
</p><p>“I’m going to take a shower,” he announced, but the faint smile she saw lurking at the corner of his lips wasn’t feigned. He nudged at her foot with his. “You should too. Get that eopie stink off you.” </p><p>“Oh, now it's a problem,” Mara huffed, not bothering to conceal her smirk as she pretended to be interested in the weather report. “That shower's probably not big enough for two anyway.”</p><p>“You don’t take up that much space.” He turned. “But suit yourself.” He said, discarding first his tunic.” I’m not the one who complains,” the leggings and underclothing were next, “that you can’t get clean enough in this planet.” </p><p>“That’s a fact,” Mara raised her voice slightly, and she would call him a slob over the mess of clothing he’d left on the floor, but one glimpse of his backside and the ‘fresher door closed. </p><p>Her hands flew to her sash. </p>
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<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Chapter 30</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“We’re not expecting much because it’s not exactly obscure as far as wrecks go, but when we get there, there’s about fifty womp rats.” El's voice was half-muffled by his arms, which he had folded under his head as he lay on his stomach.</p><p>Mara made a general sound of disgust, her hands roaming over his back and shoulders, feeling the shift in texture from the scar behind his right shoulder, the bumps of his spine. She’d perched herself on his lower back, following the casual air that had fallen between them. At some point, they’d fuck, but for now, she'd wanted to linger like this. </p><p>Even at the shower, the mood had gone back and forth. It had started near decadent -- after so many sonics, even the low power setting the hotel set for the shower had made it an indulgence. Touching El, feeling his hands on her, kissing him until her lips tingled under the warm, misty spray had been new. He'd let her mouth down his slippery body, kiss down his chest, lap at the rivulets of water sliding down his stomach. But the mood had changed at some point, that despondent air growing heavier. He hadn't been fully hard by the time Mara sank to her knees, which had been different from usual but unsurprising. She'd read self-consciousness in how he reached to palm himself.</p><p>Mara had gently pushed his hand away, pressed an open-mouthed kiss at his thigh, stroked him slow. He'd tried to pull her up twice, but with far more hesitation than before, that self-consciousness unabated. If that were the case...she'd hummed a negative both times as she continued her meandering caresses, hands gliding down his ass, her lips tracing his hip bones, a hand cupping his sac, with more slow strokes interspersed. El's chuckle at the annoyed note in her hum the second time had reverberated in the shower, and the mood had shifted into something more comfortable.</p><p>But Mara had let herself be tugged up for a kiss the next time he'd tried, though not at all dissuaded from exploring him, kissing down his body again, testing out the sensitivity of his nipples to her tongue, the scrape of her teeth, feeling the grooves of his ribs with her lips. He'd been hard by the time she'd gotten her mouth on him again, enough that his hips had pushed in a little, and she'd focused on taking him deeper to his ensuing moan. He'd set an unhurried pace into her mouth, so much she'd crept a hand to cup his ass to push him to a bit faster as much as to keep touching him. He'd hissed, doing it again, another shallow thrust and another. Eyes closed, she'd felt far warmer than the mist gathering on her skin, whispering down her face, running down her back.</p><p>She blinked out water, watched him come soundlessly, bracing himself against the wall by a forearm, beautiful enough to make her ache, something lost about him. Mara had quickly slid up, wrapping her arms around him, and stayed like that, holding him until her skin waterlogged, and the allowance settings automatically switched the shower off. He’d seemed less burdened, going into another one of his accounts as they came out, neither of them bothering to towel off.</p><p>“So me and Biggs cleared the area. It’s a tourist spot. They could have hurt someone.”</p><p>Mara leaned forward slightly. “How altruistic of you. I’m sure target practice didn’t come into your head once.”</p><p>He glanced over his shoulder to her. “Once or twice, maybe.”</p><p>She laughed, and he snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her down beside him and into a kiss; thorough and deliberate, she felt her belly tighten. </p><p>His lips trailed from her mouth to her jaw, to her neck with more intention than before. She stretched her legs and turned a bit more in his direction, his erection grazing against her hip, clearly back again. His hand slid between her legs, pads of his fingers skimming the inside of her thigh in a touch she knew well as his lips found hers again. </p><p>Mara heard her own breathy eagerness as she asked, “Going to try anything else?”</p><p>El smiled. “Oh, you want me to?”</p><p>She went to swat at him with a laugh, and he caught her hand, shifting over her. Mara jutted her chin out at him. “Preening voorpak."</p><p>The effect was lost when he dropped his head to her throat, kissed along her collarbone. His hands were now trekking up under her arms-- </p><p>She jerked away with a sharp laugh. “Voor--” she found herself squealing and flailing between involuntary laughs, aiming to curl away, but he’d shifted his weight again, pinning her in place.  “Voor--” she gasped. </p><p>El-- no, Luke, she still couldn't make his real name stick -- shifted off her, grinning. “I didn’t know you were that ticklish.”</p><p>“Yes, you did!” He leaned away as she swatted at him, but it was a half-hearted motion; she was more focused in angling a leg over him to straddle his hips. </p><p>Now seated, Mara leaned forward to kiss him. His hands cupped her face as she did, and she thought she could simply raise her hips and shift back. She was more than wet for him, had been for a while. When he broke the kiss, something had changed again in his eyes, a glimmer of melancholia. She didn’t want that. Anything but that. They'd been doing so well.</p><p>So Mara made her smile coy. “I watched a lot of red holos. Back at Coruscant.”</p><p>His expression changed to puzzlement. “What?”</p><p>“You know what those are? Scarlet rated holos.”</p><p> “Holoporn?”</p><p>She affected a thicker Core accent. “All in a young lady’s education.”</p><p>He half-sputtered an amused “No,” blue eyes glinting. </p><p>“A tutor didn’t hand them to me or anything. I <i>am</i> of age.”</p><p>El snickered. “I don’t think that’s a prerequisite for watching holoporn. I think some of those chips started circulating around Tosche when I was fourteen. Probably earlier.”</p><p>Mara allowed the derail. “Anything interesting?”</p><p>El squinted. "Not really. Kind of boring after a while.” He gave her a weighty look as he raised up on his elbows, one hand skimming the undercurve of her breast. “Maybe in the Core, there’s more...sophisticated catalogs.”</p><p>“I don’t know about that.” Mara arched an eyebrow, the graze of his fingers along her skin bringing home that the reality was light-years better here with him. “But I was wondering if you wanted to try afting.”</p><p>His hand stopped. “Afting?”</p><p>It dawned on her that there might be some negative associations this far in the Outer Rim or maybe for him...personally -- but she had to continue now. She made a general gesture towards her ass.</p><p>He only laughed incredulously. “They call it afting in the Core? You're kidding, right?”</p><p>His laugh was infectious -- and a good sign, all things considered. Between chuckles, she asked, “It's an <i>euphemism</i>. What’s so funny about it?” </p><p>“Nothing just,” he laughed again, “sounds weird.”</p><p>“Fine." She shot him a mock glare. "What’s the euphemism here?”</p><p>“Ass fucking's just ass-- no wait, backdocking. Yeah. Backdocking.”</p><p>She made a face. “Ugh, crude.”</p><p>He laughed again, harder. “I don’t know if it’s any cruder than," he mimicked her accent, "<i>afting</i>.”</p><p>She poked him on the side. “Stop mocking me. I’m making a suggestion.”</p><p>“I haven't done it much. People here like talking about ass fucking a lot more than actually doing it." He said to her grin. "What?"</p><p>"Well, I, for one, am very serious about you ass fucking me," she said primly.</p><p>He burst out laughing and pulled her down for a sloppy kiss. "Well, then." </p><p>"I mean," she reached for his cock-- he definitely seemed interested, "you're a terrible teacher." She gave a lazy stroke down. "Barely told me what you liked last time I asked." Another slow stroke.</p><p>He closed his eyes, drawing a breath as she stroked more firmly. "Wrong. I'm an...excellent teacher. The best."</p><p>Mara smiled and released him, letting him pull her down for another one of those slow kisses. His lips moved down, past her collarbones, and Mara arched her back when he ran his teeth gently across her nipple. He pushed her onto her back, slid down further, his hands warm at her sides, breath hot against her lower ribs.</p><p>This was going a familiar, if delicious, path. Maybe he wasn't interested. And honestly, she thought, flushing hot as he kissed between her legs, she didn't care what they were doing as long as they managed to keep out the dark pall threatening their last night together, as long as it was just them making each other feel good, making each other believe that there was nothing else.</p><p>She jerked at the first slow swipe of his tongue along her slit, his hands tilting up her hips as he settled his mouth on her, tongue curling around her clit, barely more than a tease. Mara made a sound of protest, only to have him draw away, nuzzling at her thigh.</p><p>Before she could scold him, he'd moved his mouth down to her entrance, tongue flattening against it, then delving in, tasting her. More than a tease, a promise to her canting hips, her growing flush, the heat gathering in her lower back. She wanted his mouth back on her clit, and he obliged, her heart going off-beat when he eased two fingers in. When she opened her eyes, she found him looking up at her, captivated. Mara forced a smile over the ache that bloomed, sudden and implacable in her chest, the knowledge that no one would ever look at her like this again. </p><p>And he saw it, the flicker in his eyes told her as much.</p><p>"Make me come," she breathed, spreading her legs more and tilting her hips against him until his tongue made everything fall away. She was panting when he licked his fingers and shifted them past her core, back, over her hole. He bowed his head again, tracing her folds, a gentle kiss just over her clit, the tingly pins and needles feeling making her moan as he rubbed against her hole. </p><p>Bit by bit, Mara became aware of her skin growing damp, the gradual change from feeling loose, melting under his lips and tongue and touch, to a mounting, pulsing ache that transformed her sighs into moans. His thumb began edging into her hole in counterpoint to his lovely mouth working over her core, and she slid towards him, wanting more than that careful touch. Mara curled a leg around him, shifting to feel his cock hard and wet against her thigh. El drew away, pulling her into a demanding kiss she answered with the same bruising intensity.</p><p>His eyes were dark as he asked, "You still want to?"</p><p>She nodded and sat up on an elbow, watching as he went to his bag and started rummaging for something. "It needs...paraphernalia?"</p><p>"More comfortable that way.”</p><p>She looked at the small flat object and a small vial in his hands.</p><p>"Prophylactic and lubricant." His expression turned wary. "Not that I thought I'd need it after--"</p><p>"I know." She covered his hand with hers. "El, we don't need a barrier if it's better for you without, I want it to be--"</p><p>"This is different. Trust me. It'll feel different after and...not necessarily pleasant. Red holos aren't exactly true to life."</p><p>She flashed him an irritated glance. "Obviously." </p><p>That playful smile came over his face just before he leaned over to kiss her. He opened the packet and set it down next to the vial on the bed.</p><p>Mara turned, going up on all fours, feeling El's hands smooth down her hip. Surely it couldn't be that bad without a barrier. She wondered if there was some local issue there still, or maybe it was what <i>he'd</i> preferred -- she stopped that thought right there.  His concern felt true to him, she couldn't expect otherwise, and Mara focused on him tracing his hands’ path with his mouth. She’d just come, but she wanted him again, felt that heaviness low in her belly, a greedy throb between her thighs. </p><p>When he parted her ass to lick at her hole, she whimpered, remembering what she thought last time he'd done this -- that he should take her like he owned her, like nothing would stop him. The thought made her breath catch and her hands knot on the bedsheets, more desperate noises falling from her mouth. She shivered as he lapped across her hole and squirmed, moaning, pulling against the sheets, pushing back against his mouth as he gave her more, a litany of <i>fuck me, please, El, oh, fuck me, fuck me </i>dripping from her lips.</p><p>She could hear herself sounding overwrought, indecent like she was begging. No, she <i>was</i> begging. This was her, under his mouth and hands, wailing like nothing else mattered save the pleasure he could give her.</p><p>Just like it was her, lust-addled and dumb, saying, “Why aren’t you in me already?" </p><p>He breathed out a chuckle, maybe a little smug, and the sound curled inside her, exuding a different type of warmth. "It's also better if you're relaxed."</p><p>"Anymore relaxed," she made a face at the way her consonants mashed together, "and I'll be sleeping while you ass fuck me -- fine if that's what you're into, but I wanted to feel it."</p><p>El laughed, dropping a loud, messy kiss at her shoulder, and the next thing she knew, his lips were everywhere, the inside of her arm, the hollow under it, down the divots of her hips. There was no way these kisses were meant to get her ready with how pliant she’d become. It had to be because he liked seeing her like this. Mara’s stomach fluttered at all of it, fucked-out body trying to wake up and ask for more, give more.</p><p>"El," she whined again. "Fuck me already."</p><p>"You want to come again?"</p><p>She laughed weakly. "No. Wanna feel it. You. Wanna feel you." Her thoughts were silt through her fingers. El rubbed his cheek against her thigh, perhaps having given up on her making sense.</p><p>"Close. I want," she licked her lips, tried again, "you closer. Don't care how you fuck me. Just get closer." He urged her to her back, leaned forward, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. She should feel stupid at all the babbling, but pressing her forehead against his shoulder as he cradled her head, she wanted him in her very marrow -- and maybe being pathetic only was asking for things you weren't ever going to get. </p><p>"No, stay like that," he said when she attempted to turn over once he let her go to reach for the vial, smiled at her expression. “You can aft this way too,” he teased, kissing the side of her knee. He reached for a pillow and she obediently raised her hips so he could slide it under her. He settled back, her legs by his shoulders. "See?"  </p><p>She felt duty-bound to roll her eyes at him. “Should be bored with the view. Seen so much of it."</p><p>El leaned down, caging her with his forearms, making a pleased sound against her neck. "Maybe I don't compliment you enough," he said between more soft kisses by her ear, her jaw, "if you say things like that."</p><p>She snorted as he pulled away to uncap and tip the vial into his hands, lowering it between her legs. "Don't be --" He was rubbing at her hole like he had before, save the easier skid of his fingers from the lubricant. It felt strange, different. "I don’t need--" She shifted a bit against the touch, closing her eyes.</p><p>"Right because you know it already -- that you're beautiful."  He kissed her shoulder.</p><p>It was feeling good enough that it was getting hard to concentrate, but -- "No…"</p><p>He stared down at her, a dreamy tinge to his expression. "I would have wanted to see you dance."</p><p>She wanted to laugh but only moaned at his fingers teasing along her slickened hole. Feeling emboldened, she asked, "Would've wanted to fuck me?”</p><p>"Probably. But would have wanted to see you smile first. Your smile is the prettiest thing about you."</p><p>"That's…" she made a face, but rolled her hips back, wanting less of a tease, "dumb. Don't even have-- to take my clothes off. Should -- ungh -- talk about my pussy instead."</p><p>“Isn’t it crude to talk about your pussy," his lips brushed her hip, tone a soft tease again, "And how pretty it is," his lips dragging across her thigh, "and how good it feels," and just below her navel, "and how good it tastes." His thumb pressed in her hole, and it slid easily though it felt a little odd. He lifted his head, meeting her eyes, "Okay?" </p><p>Mara nodded, angling her hips, adjusting to the weird sensation. He slid his thumb deeper, pulled back. He tried his index finger next, an easier slide that kicked her heart rate up. </p><p>"I'll tell you," she said quickly to his next pause, "If anything doesn’t feel right. It's good."</p><p>A bit of a stretch followed as he worked in another finger, going slow in a way that might have tried her patience if she wasn't finding it so hard to breathe, her nerves lighting up. It was just the right bit of stretch. Part of it could be the way his eyes had latched onto hers, like he was cataloging every reaction, every gasp, every sigh as he slid in his fingers and pulled back, singularly focused. On her. Only her. </p><p>She didn’t need to ask for more; at some point, he’d started really fucking his fingers in, setting an even but easy pace, the lube squelching obscenely. Mara couldn't seem to make her mouth work for anything other than small incoherent sounds.  </p><p>"Three now, okay?" he murmured.</p><p>Mara nodded, impatient to give him that, give him everything. He eased in a third finger, and Mara breathed out into the stretch and sting.</p><p>"Okay?"</p><p>"Yeah." She was rewarded by his smile. He stroked his fingers in gently, the feeling back to uncomfortable, but a type of uncomfortable that felt better with every push in, with the thought that this was him working her body open so that they might fit like this too.</p><p>"I want to try something. Arch your back a little?"</p><p>She did, and El leaned in, pinching her nipple with his free hand. Light but unexpected, the shock of it sent a cry shooting out from her lips, thoughts short-circuiting as she shoved herself down his fingers on instinct. Her head swam at the sharp burst of pleasure coiling tight between her legs. </p><p>"Again," she heard herself gasp. "Please. Harder."</p><p>He twisted the nipple this time, the sensation streaking through her body, driving her down onto his fingers, more tension low in her belly.</p><p>"Please." This time she folded her hand over his at her breast, a hard squeeze. He was no longer moving his fingers, and it was her fucking herself on them while keeping his hand at a painful grip on her breast.</p><p>She panted, almost light-headed. When she glanced up at El, he was breathing so hard his shoulders shook, eyes fixed on her face.</p><p>"Come on," she whined.</p><p>He withdrew his hand, reached for the prophylactic, slipped it on, and grabbed the vial, tipping it again on his hands, uncharacteristically clumsy as they spread it on his cock before leaning forward, lining himself up with her hole. She felt the slickened pressure of his cock against her, breaching in inch by inch, and she drew a breath at the stretch, trying to relax further. Definitely more than his fingers. Much more pressure. Much more. A burn, deep. A little...overwhelming. She couldn’t help hissing as she forced herself to ease up where she’d been clenching down involuntarily. </p><p>El stopped. “Mara?”</p><p>Mara lifted her hand to his shoulder and squeezed it. </p><p>“I’m adjusting," she said tightly. It wasn’t like the first time, and the pain was duller but deeper by far. “I’m adjusting. I can adjust.” She drew in a breath and smiled at him, “Touch me? Like before. Hard.”</p><p>He slid a palm down from the side of her face to her neck. Curving his hand over her breast, his eyes flicked up at her as he twisted her nipple again. Mara arched into the sharpness of it with a cry, felt more of El's cock slide into her, saw his soft mouth part in a gasp.</p><p>Her lips moved several times before she could push out the "What?" </p><p>It remained a bit uncomfortable, but less so than before, subsumed by the tight feeling of satisfaction. Her body could accommodate, of course, she could take more of him. She could roll her hips again, push back a little harder, and it hurt but --</p><p>"Stop, stop." El gripped her hip hard, and she fought the impulse to keep pushing. Would he grip her even harder if she did?</p><p>"Oh, good," she teased breathlessly, the idea making the back of her neck prickle. "You're close."</p><p>He flashed her a look that was half-pained and half-amused, taking a ragged breath.</p><p>"I came twice already," she blurted out. "Don't have to work that hard."</p><p>"Mara," he choked out, a bit of exasperation in there, and she couldn't help but shift again. A hiss from him, a crushing grip that made her bring the heel of her hand between her legs for some relief. He'd drawn forward, again with that painstaking slowness until he'd bottomed out, their hips flush together. It wasn’t as painful as it’d been, not with him staring down at her with those blown pupils. </p><p>No, she had to pace the touch between her legs; half in disbelief at the desperate heat building again. She pulled El down for a clicking of teeth more than a kiss, feeling more than keyed up. His cock shifted inside her at the motion, and it sparked a chaotic twist of pleasure-pain that had her moaning unintelligibly. He murmured something, and she found herself gasping, "Saying…what a fucking deviant I am?"</p><p><i>Yes</i>, she wanted him to say, <i>what a degenerate slut you are for me</i>, because she could be, she <i>wanted to be</i> when it was between them --  </p><p>El bit down on her neck, loosening a squeal from her lips when he pulled back, a spellbinding look of focus on him, the sweat on his face catching the light as he rocked into her, picking up the pace until she tossed her head back.  Her fingers moved frantically between her legs now. She couldn’t stop. </p><p>El's hand pressed down on the sheets by her shoulder, his breaths harsh, eyes following her fingers movements hungrily, then darting down where he was sliding in and out of her. His thrusts were still too measured; she wanted to see him give himself to all this frenzied sensation. She tightened the leg hooked around him and lifted her hips up, making it hurt, but just so, just right, her hands scraping down his shoulder as she keened, feeling his motions grow more urgent. His hand came down hard, pinning down her shoulder, finally losing his restraint as he pushed in with hard thrusts, crying out as if he were being torn apart. A flick of her fingers, and she was gone.</p><p>When the euphoric feeling faded, she folded her arms around him anchoring his weight as his chest slid slickly against hers with each shallow breath. She stroked his back, her legs curled around his waist until he withdrew gently and let himself settle beside her. Her body felt weirder after what they’d just done, and she’d definitely be feeling it later. That wouldn't be so bad. </p><p>"Terrible at compliments," she mumbled thickly as she turned, half flopping on him. "So good at everything else. Everything."</p><p>He chuckled, shifting her closer, dropped a kiss on her cheek. Mara was about to quip something else, but with a soft groan, he moved away and ambled to the ‘fresher. She waited, feeling heavy and drowsy, finally sinking her head into the pillow as if she were melting into the mattress.</p><p>Next thing she knew, El’s arms were around her again. She could feel the tension back in him and knew he hadn’t been sleeping. She blinked blearily, looking over at the chrono. Close to half an hour had passed. She was about to remark on her impromptu nap, but El felt strange. </p><p>She looked up at him. "What is it?"</p><p>Silence lengthened and then: “Biggs, he defected."</p><p>Mara flinched, caught off guard. His best friend, or...she didn't want to continue thinking. The one he’d gone hunting womp rats with, who’d let him pilot his fancy speeder, who he’d wanted to leave this dustball with. The one who the man said was dead.</p><p>“He said he would, last time he was here. Defect.” El paused, something hollow in his voice. “Turn traitor. They have you going after--"</p><p>“No. My targets are high functionaries. Moffs, governors who commit treason. Not...normal people.” Of course, treason was hardly normal, no matter who it was. Alderaan popped into her head, and she shoved it back out. That was different. It'd had a purpose. It had.</p><p>Mara forced herself to continue, “The Empire has grown over time and especially in the Outer Rim, there’s more...abuses of power… especially from high positions. It’s...unacceptable, disgusting, but it can change. It will change, but these things take time.”</p><p>There was no reason to go on further, but she did. “In my last two assignments, I had help from deserters. Five former stormtroopers. They turned from their posts after they...they were ordered to slaughter civilians. They refused. Best men I've ever worked with. So it's a problem and... it's too widespread, but once this is brought to the Emperor's attention --”</p><p>El was strangely intense when he asked, “What happened to them?”</p><p>“I don’t know. They just disappeared. Last time I worked with them I had to use the Force to find them --”</p><p>He leaned forward slightly, expression shifting to curiosity but no less intense. “Wait. Using the Force? Like the -- the healing? How?”</p><p>She waved a hand. “It’s hard to explain, you just kind of focus on what you want to find -- anyway, I tried to look into ISB -- the Imperial Security Bureau to see where I could lodge an appeal on their behalf, but I didn't get too far.” She remembered the feeling of loss at her knowledge that they wouldn’t come back. She didn’t blame them, but the feeling had haunted her for days. It'd be worse now. "I was going to try again--" </p><p>Stop.</p><p>El's intensity didn’t let up. “Can you get in trouble for letting them go?”</p><p>That was it. He was concerned, and she met his eyes. "No, I told you. I answer to the Emperor. Whatever I need for any mission is my prerogative and they were assets to my mission. My master would accept them as such.”</p><p>His look shifted to confusion. “But you were sent to look for me.”</p><p>Mara shook her head. Was he thinking she'd get penalized for letting him go? Or that he'd be tracked down? “No. I wasn't sent, El. I…I wanted to <i>add</i> this to my mission,” she looked away, embarrassed. “My master has been...distraught after Yavin, and I thought more information could help him. It was me. And all the information I found -- it was a cover up, they were...they were looking for a droid. The droid that stole the plans for the station the Rebels blew up; they'd...lost it. Pinned their incompetence on your family. <i>They’re</i> the traitors and they should be--”</p><p>"Where did it go?"</p><p>"No one knows. Must have found the Jedi somewhere; going by the files he came from Mos Eisley," she said grimly. “But that doesn’t matter. He died on the Death Star. Just wonder why he left his lightsaber behind." She shook her head. "The data on you wasn't even flagged as high priority in any documents. The lightsaber was my mission, not --, not you. I -- I shouldn't have gone digging. I -- Maybe I was looking for a reason to stay. But you have nothing to fear. You can leave here. You need to leave here.“</p><p>“Mara--”</p><p>"It's for the best," she forced herself to continue. "I'll -- I'll investigate--" </p><p>"No," he said, eyes widening. “You can’t. Don't.”</p><p>"They can’t touch me,” she soothed.  "No one can." She pressed her face against his chest, breathing in. "You'll be fine too. You will. I know it."</p><p>His arms tightened around her.  "No," his voice softened to a murmur, "You’ve got to come with me. You have to."</p><p>"I…can't, El" Her throat tightened. "I was...this is what I was raised to do."</p><p>El puffed out a bitter chuckle. "I was raised to be a farmer."</p><p>"El." It wasn't even close. How to explain her obligation? She winced at confusing his name yet again."--Luke, I am what I am because of my master. He needs me--"</p><p>"Your master is the <i>Emperor</i>. He --" he seemed to catch himself. "<i>I </i>need you."</p><p>She wanted to laugh, dismiss the childish simplicity of it, but the solemnity of his gaze made her look away.</p><p>"You don't." He didn't, and he'd gotten along fine without her. It'd been a matter of time before he left this planet. "You're brilliant and talented. You'll leave this place and--" </p><p>"I don't want to, not without you."</p><p>Mara shifted away. It didn't matter. She'd always known what her life would be. She stared up at the pourstone ceiling, feeling her throat tighten again. Sentiment was foolish, an illusion. Sentiment was for those who valued selfish pleasure over duty to something greater.</p><p>"Mara, I love you."</p><p>She bit her lip so hard she tasted blood, and something huge welled up inside her. Sentiment was illusory, she told herself to keep it at bay. Insubstantial. Not for her. Never for her.</p><p>She wished El would say something else, anything else, but he stayed silent. After a long moment, she'd collected herself enough to say in a whisper, "You'll change your mind. Sentiment is," and she had to stop anyway, her voice growing shaky. A breath and she finished, "it's a passing thing."</p><p>He settled closer, undeterred as if that had been a cue he'd waited for. "That's not you again," he said by her ear. "That's what you've been told, and it's wrong. There's nothing, <i>nothing</i> passing in how I feel about you. Nothing. And you--"</p><p>"Stop." She closed her eyes at how small it sounded. Weak. "You have to stop."</p><p>He fell silent, rubbed his cheek against her shoulder and she let him pull her back against him despite knowing she shouldn't. Maybe that was what kept her up. She felt El awake too, and couldn't guess his thoughts. </p><p>She wanted to forget everything to focus on marking this in her memory instead, the way he held her, the smell and feel of his skin, the rise, and fall of his chest. There was all of that, but there was also a prickling dread like a looming shadow, drawing inexorably closer and closer still.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. Chapter 31</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tick tick tick.</p><p>Whir.</p><p>Mara opened her eyes in a darkened room. Her head hurt, her arms hurt -- probably because someone had cuffed them behind her. All of her body ached. The world spun when she tried to get up, and she stopped the attempt, waiting for it to settle.</p><p>A blurry figure stood over her. It spoke in a deep voice, but the sounds refused to differentiate themselves.</p><p>Where am I? The whirring continued. From her left. Slowly, trying not to make things worse, she turned her head.</p><p>Her vision didn't clear. A dark blur ate at her line of sight; one thin spike extended outwards. No, not a spike, she realized, and realized too why she was having trouble focusing, why everything hurt. She put the whirring sound together with the blurry, dark spherical object, an object with a spike? No, not a spike.</p><p>A needle.</p><p>A needle attached to an interrogation droid.</p><p>It wasn't real until, somehow, it was behind her. Someone held her down. The needle pressed into her spine, bit into her skin.</p><p>Burned.</p><p>She opened her mouth and screamed.</p><p> That's not my voice, she thought, snapping awake to El thrashing beside her. She scooted back, narrowly missing his flailing arm. She turned on the bedside light. He didn't wake up. </p><p>“Mara! Mara!"</p><p>Mara reached to put a hand on his forearm, his skin clammy to the touch. "El," she whispered, uneasiness seeping into her. He stopped thrashing but still garbled out something pained. </p><p> "Luke," she corrected herself. "You're having a nightmare." She raised her voice. "You're having a nightmare. Wake up." </p><p> "No," he screamed, suddenly jerking away from Mara's hold. "No!" </p><p>Mara reached for him again. He should have woken up. "Luke! Wake up!" </p><p>“No!” he shrieked. “No!”</p><p> "Wake up!" She recognized she was yelling now as she shook him, but he wouldn't respond. She shook him harder. Was something wrong? He should wake up. He had to wake up.</p><p>Her slap caught him mid-scream. Luke's eyes opened a too-long second later. </p><p>“Mara?” he asked drowsily.</p><p>Her lips felt dry. "You were having a nightmare," she heard herself say. "You wouldn't--you wouldn't wake up. I slapped you. I'm sorry." An icepack. She should get him an icepack. "Let me get you something." </p><p> "No, wait." He sat up, but she'd already slid away from the bed and went towards her things. "You okay? Mara?" </p><p>Her hands felt clumsy as she dug through her bag. "Yes, I'm fine." Finally, her hand closed on the medkit.</p><p> "Did I...hurt you? By accident, like--" </p><p>“No.” She whipped the pack out. "Of course not. But I did, and I don't want your cheek to swell or anything. It calls attention and tomorrow, well in a few hours, if we're going to the medcenter. I don't want them asking more questions than they have to, and if they see something else, they might, I just don't know." She forced herself to stop. When she offered the ice pack to him, he gently pushed her hand away.</p><p>“I don’t need it.”</p><p>Of course, he didn't. What was wrong with her?</p><p>He tugged her back with him. "You okay?" </p><p>She allowed him to pull her back to the bed, faking a laugh. "Stop asking me that. I was just startled." She let a few beats pass.  “They <i>have</i> gotten worse.” He'd said as much, hadn't he? "And you...remember them now?" </p><p> "Yeah. There's...more than one. The one where you're in a room, and one where you have to run, and I'm yelling at you to go--" </p><p> "Going back to Anchorhead. Then the homestead. That's what did it." She should have insisted he stay behind. Mara reached to brush away some of his sleep-tousled hair. "It's okay. They'll run their course. Just have to wait them out. They're not real." She scooted forward to pressed a kiss just under the hollow of his throat. There was no reason to feel so unsettled. "A mishmash of something you heard, something you saw, and how you feel." </p><p>His hand was at her arm. "Don't go back." </p><p>Her stomach lurched again. It'd been painful enough when he'd asked her hours ago. "I have to. But you..." He pulled her close, sinking his head down to her neck. She smoothed a hand down his head, tried to inject as much conviction as she could into her voice. "You just need to leave this place." </p><p> "You're not safe in what you do." </p><p> "I'm not," she conceded. Mos Eisley hadn't helped. "But I was trained for this. I'm not afraid, I'm -- I have my duty. It's different for me." </p><p> "I get feelings sometimes. Like with finding the hut. You...you shouldn't go back." </p><p>Something about his certain tone made her neck prickle. “Luke--”  </p><p> "I know what you think," he continued, expression pained. "But I wouldn't lie about that." </p><p>Not in a malicious way, Mara knew. "You know why you feel this. We both know. It's been...stressful and--" </p><p>He kissed her again, and she thought back to how she'd wanted things to go. Not like this. "Things will be better once you're away from this place," she repeated. "You'll see." </p><p>And she traced the planes and lines of him in the dim light. His own hands drifted over her in patterns she knew, and she could recognize the hitch in his breathing, that need for closeness changing from exploratory to more intentional. </p><p>She greeted it with relief. They could exorcise night terrors like this. Better to do it like this while they still could.</p><p>Mara scooted closer, sliding an arm around him, her palm drifting up his back, fingers threading in his hair. "Fuck me again, Luke." </p><p>He looked at her, his expression some mix of arousal and...concern. "I love you." </p><p>Mara bit her lip and tried a laugh, but it sounded nothing like one, a pathetic grinding noise. She tried a smile next, hoping that would be better. It wasn't. So she looked at a spot just past his shoulder, willing that pressure in her chest to ease up. He knew, so she didn't need to answer. She didn't.</p><p> "Yeah, I know. Me too. But that's not -- that's not -- not helpful, now." Gathering herself, Mara met his eyes. "And we -- we don't have that much time." She pulled his head down for a kiss. This was easier.</p><p> Luke's hand wandered down to her thigh, and Mara shifted a leg over his hip until he could press in closer. The touch had no particular urgency despite how closely they were pressed. He was busy kissing her temple, her cheek, her jaw. All of it had a misty, dream-like quality, unreal enough to give in to it, to close her eyes, and relent.</p><p> "I do love you," Mara found herself saying in a gossamer whisper. She could think of it as a secret, a shorthand for a future she hadn't even dared to dream. Not before him.</p><p> "I would have died in the desert without you," he murmured.

</p><p>She reached a hand to his cheek. "You don't owe me anything, Luke." </p><p>He nuzzled along her cheek. "Not what I mean." His lips found hers again, kisses dizzyingly soft. "I mean that we can take care of each other." And he kissed her again before she could respond. She forgot what she'd meant to say. </p><p> "See the galaxy together," he whispered in her ear, his hand stroking up her side. "I want to. Don't you?" </p><p>She closed her eyes. Wanting didn't mean much. But when she opened her mouth, a quiet, "Yes," trickled out.</p><p>His thumb traced her jaw. "With me?" </p><p> "Luke, I ca--" He kissed her again, another long kiss.</p><p> "Where would you take me?" </p><p>Mara bit her lip, dangerous. She was only making things worse by playing along.</p><p> “Sibensko," she said quietly. "Expansion region. Heard of it?" </p><p>He brushed his lips against her temple. "No." </p><p> "It's a water world. Cities above and underwater." She'd wondered about it; only a few expeditions had been on record. How would it look to someone like him? "Would it be too strange? Too much water for you." </p><p>He chuckled near her neck, a puff of air. "No such thing." </p><p> "I've never been," she admitted. "Just looked at holos." </p><p> "It'd be new to both of us." Her breath hitched at the slide of his hand up her thigh, and he only shifted slightly to ease into her. They hadn't tried fucking this way before either, and it felt less urgent, his push into her more like a languid rock than a thrust.</p><p> "Where else?" His whisper was a caress in itself.</p><p>It took a few seconds for her to collect her thoughts among the slow wash of pleasure, but the rhythm he'd set wasn't demanding. She felt a vague sense of deja vu as if they could be profligate with time. El's eyes fixed on her -- Luke's eyes -- dark, his expression soft, expectant.</p><p>She brought her arms around his neck. The place came readily, "Nuswata." </p><p>“Gardens?” </p><p>Mara made an airy affirmative sound, and he kissed her again. The Forbidden Gardens. She wasn't surprised he knew. It was in the <i>Twenty Wonders of the Galaxy</i>, in the <i>Glorious Imperica</i>. Of course not forbidden anymore, only far enough only a select few could go.</p><p>"You’ve been?”</p><p>Mara shook her head. Bit by bit, the sweaty slide of their bodies stoked her fire again, the haziness melting away into wanting more, her hips rocking back harder in answer to El's thrusts as she was anchoring herself on the meat of his thigh. When his hand slid under her jaw, she turned into his palm, nipped at his thumb, a low sound pouring from the back of her throat. </p><p>El would push her to her back, fuck her hard and fast, she thought, but he just made a chiding sound, glided his hand down her sweat-slick arm. Down her back they went, cupped her ass, his pace slightly faster, and her release remained too distant, too amorphous yet. </p><p>What she had was that craving burning through her veins, driving her to scratch down his back, licking into his mouth for their next kiss. At his groan, she shoved her hips against him with what little leverage she had, mindlessly bending back to slide against him, clenching her thighs to feel even more of him inside of her. He was thrusting now, hand gripping her hip, panting wetly into her mouth. The give and take between them grew hectic, an upswell that rose and <i>broke</i>, and kept breaking, until Mara could feel the electric charge slide from her toes to the tips of her ears, buzzing on her tongue, on her skin. El pushed her back then, fucking her roughly as she spasmed and shivered, broken open sounds leaking from her mouth. He bit her neck as he came, hard pressure against hot flesh, her shriek ringing in the air.</p><p>She wanted to feel emptied out, light enough to float, but even as Luke drew away to curl at her side lips at her shoulder, her cheek, the side of her head, that weight in her chest pressed her down.</p><p> "Where else will we go?" he whispered.</p><p>The pressure traveled up to her throat. It'll be fine in the morning. It will, is what she should say, but she was sick of lying. Nothing was fine. Nothing would be fine. Mara squeezed her eyes shut. She had to try. "El--Luke, I --" </p><p> "It's not how you see things. It's--it's the opposite. This," his arms tightened around her, "This is real. Out there is -- you're past it." He made a frustrated sound as if he knew he wasn't making any sense. She thought of those who took him in lying in a tomb of sand. He owed nothing now.</p><p>But when he insisted, "Where else, Mara?" she could see <i>herself</i> differently for a glittering instant, past the desperate feeling behind her ribs. She could feel her hand in his. "Anywhere," went his whisper at her ear, a promise wrapped up in longing.</p><p>Your master's all but forgotten you, came a dangerous voice. You don't really matter. But you could.</p><p>El’s grief-stricken face back at Mos Eisley. His hushed voice in the desert stillness. <i>Luke's</i> voice.</p><p>
  <i>I would never leave you.</i>
</p><p>She had to pull away, grab the bottle of water from the nightstand, bringing it to her lips. </p><p> "I need -- I need to wash my face." Mara half stumbled up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. One foot in front of the other, she staggered to the 'fresher and closed the door. She mattered to her master. Of course, she did. Of course. </p><p>More than mattered. Her master needed her. He did. The Empire needed her, she thought as she splashed her face. Otherwise, it'd be more abuses of power, more corruption. He’d raised her to <i>be</i> that difference. There had to be those willing to sacrifice everything. Order had to cost something.</p><p>But why her life? Mara dropped her face in her hands, that horrible imprisoning weight at the center of her chest stealing her breaths.</p><p>There was no other choice. To never see her master again. He'd know her as a traitor. The one who'd betrayed him. A selfish, ungrateful child.</p><p>The kind of child you leave behind.</p><p>A soft knock at the 'fresher door startled her. "Mara?" </p><p>She jerked up. “In--in a second.”</p><p> "No, it's okay," he replied through the door. "Take your time. I...I know it's not easy, I'm-- I'm here is all." </p><p>Mara sniffed and placed her hands at either side of the lavatory. Open the door, she told herself, and go. This was never for you. You knew this. You've always known this.</p><p> "I was thinking tomorrow we can go to the Arena if you want, or -- the ruins of this ship just a few clicks out of the Heights." </p><p>Tomorrow. Mara closed her eyes. If she stayed one more day with Luke...The knowledge spread before her like a horizon. One more day, and she'd never leave.</p><p>It was that simple.</p><p> "I think the wreck would be better, actually." </p><p>Go out there and say good-bye, she told herself. Her feet wouldn't move. Just visualizing his face when she did made her eyes sting. Mara balled her hands into fists. She had to. Go out there, she told herself. Don't be a fucking coward. You nearly died only days ago. This is nothing. </p><p> "The wreck was left out more than twenty years ago." </p><p>But that crushed expression he'd worn when she'd said no out in the homestead -- or when he'd woken...She took a deep breath. Released it. Drew in another. To take his heartbroken expression as her last memory of him...</p><p>Mara bent over the lavatory. She couldn't face him.</p><p>So then what?</p><p>She reached for her hygiene kit. </p><p> "People think it's haunted, but I don't believe in that stuff." </p><p>She carried a couple of solutions there, masked as eye drops and creams. It'd be a small mercy. He was owed some peace after the past few days. Things would look better later. In time, he'd forget her. He'd be happy. </p><p> "It's quiet there, it'll be nice. It was weird at the spaceport, right? All those crowds." </p><p>This bottle held a hypnotic, a sleeping agent, tasteless and safe, safe enough that she'd been made to build tolerance to it just a year ago. She ignored the asphyxiating feeling in her chest, the roil of her stomach.</p><p>Mara uncapped the top, tipped it into her water bottle, her breath catching a little. She put the smaller bottle back in her kit and splashed her face, noting the savage collection of red on her neck going down to her shoulder. One spot, in particular, was a clear bite mark, deep red, looked like she'd need double the concealing paste. That wasn't now, so she walked out. </p><p>El -- <i>Luke</i> she told herself again, the least she could do was to think of him by his <i>real </i>name -- had gone back to the bed, eyes flickering up to her as she approached. She gave him a wavery smile as she climbed up, water bottle in hand. He was calm now, more than he'd been earlier as if he knew, it'd be a matter of waiting her out. Mara took a small sip that choking feeling in her chest unceasing. He'd always known.</p><p> "No womp rats at that haunted wreck?" she meant to ask, something, anything easy, but instead the pressure spilled over, and her eyes filled up, all the more horrible because she hadn't cried since she was a child. She'd thought all those rounds of supervised self-critique had inured her to it. </p><p>Luke pulled her against him, his hand curving around her head. The pressure eased up, but only because her tears overflowed, and she poured out loud, harsh sobs against him. </p><p> "It's okay. It's okay," he whispered over and over, rubbing a hand up and down her back, but it did nothing to ease the feeling that she was ripping at the very seams, desperation clawing within her, an intolerable impulse push the bottle off the nightstand, have it spill on the floor.</p><p> "He'll hate me," ripped out of her, barely intelligible through half-strangled sobs. "Forever. He'll hate me. He took me in, and he'll hate me." </p><p>Luke kept murmuring, "No, no," but she knew better. To be taken in from nothing and given everything was a debt to be paid. She just hadn't realized it until now.</p><p> "D'qar," he said softly when the worst of it had passed, "is not so far. Temperate forests. No cities, only outposts, and the houses are made from wood. They seem big. Not to you probably," his voice dipped into ruefulness, "Bigger than anything here." He paused. "Less than ten thousand gets us a ship that can take us there. Something small can cost maybe eight thousand." </p><p> "The weapons and supplies," she let herself murmur into his pause. "Another two thousand. Got five in cash credits." He'd get all of it.</p><p>"I know someone -- <i>of</i> someone who does counterfeits. He won't do work for individuals for less than three thousand. Seven thousand could even get you a license that looks real. I could probably talk him down from that number. That buys," Luke continued, voice pitching up slightly, "a new identicard for you, plus license. The ship goes under your name. It's more than enough to get us to D'qar." </p><p> "What about you? Your documents?" </p><p> "I can wait. We would only have to do that for a bit. The hyperspace routes are close to the Alisan Way, and there's blockades on a few of those. They need construction materials -- the kind D'qar has. Just a few small smuggling jobs, and we could make enough for the identicards for me, a better ship." </p><p>He kissed her temple, his smile growing brighter. "And then you could show me the galaxy." </p><p>Like he'd planned with his friend. He'd loved that friend, she was sure. </p><p>Maybe he'd been more than just a friend.</p><p>Luke bit his lip, momentarily abashed. "You'll think I'm stupid if I tell you that...I don't know, that maybe I'd been waiting for you. All this time on this rock. That it wasn't about just getting out, but getting out with <i>you</i>. We're two of a kind, and I just didn't know..." </p><p>And she felt lower than low, pressing her forehead against his chest. "Very stupid," Mara hiccupped, starting to cry again, quieter this time, at least. Maybe his dreams <i>were</i> a premonition. Maybe she wouldn't carry this memory for long. It was worse than anything she'd <i>ever</i> felt. </p><p>He kissed the top of her head. "It'll hurt less little by little. I promise. You'll be happy. We'll be happy. Your master -- he'll understand. You just need to find your own way." He stroked her back again. “</p><p> "It'll get better," Luke said, that same obstinacy sparking in his voice like he would make that happen by the sheer force of his will. "We'll look after each other -- just like we've done here. It'll always be us." </p><p>He shifted his hold and grabbed the water bottle. Mara held still, afraid if she let go an inch, she'd launch herself forward knock it from his grasp. But she thought, keep talking, and I won't go. His words made a path. As long as he spoke, the future he imagined was real. Yet she stayed still, a sabacc draw, as Luke brought the bottle to his lips and tipped it back. He offered it to her.</p><p>Mara took it with numb fingers, thinking, you were right all along, I'm a coward. She let him pull her onto her side as he scooted behind her, his hand stroking along her arm.</p><p> "We...we can look at that wreck after they do the check at the medcenter." </p><p>Luke made an impatient sound. "I'm fine." </p><p> "It hasn't even been a week, and knowing you, it needs to get checked. I'll schedule something first thing tomorrow." </p><p> "No rush. There's medcenters...in other...places," he said sleepily.</p><p> "Not with my clearance." He had to know that without proper identification any sort of medical procedure could easily bleed him dry.</p><p> "Luke," she called a long beat after, her heartbeat pounding in her ears.</p><p>"Mm?"</p><p> "You did right by your aunt and uncle," she choked out. "In not leaving. They took you in, and you...you didn't disappoint them. You never disappointed them. They must have known, even at the end, that they--they'd been right to take you in. They couldn't have asked for more." </p><p>He stirred, and she froze, but he didn't say anything else. She passed a hand through his hair. He didn't rouse, his breathing even and deep. </p><p>"We're two of a kind," she murmured in the silence. </p><p>Inhaling, she kissed his brow and finally dragged herself away to sit at the edge of the bed, rubbing at her face, her eyes sticky with salt. She went to the lamp at the edge of the room and clicked it on. It would make no difference to Luke with the hypnotic in his system. Those were two to four hours guaranteed. He hadn't moved an inch, his face utterly peaceful.</p><p>Mara dressed mechanically, covering up the marks on her neck. There'd been tender spots along her hips too, and she tried not to think about them as she braided her hair. She packed her toiletries and other personal items. She commed for an appointment at Mos Espa Med, requesting a follow-up comm to the hotel. </p><p>After, she gathered the rest of her credits, except those she'd need immediately, wishing she had more. Nothing was certain in this universe, even with credits. She'd say she'd been forced to leave her things behind while she made a quick exit. It wasn't a lie, she'd grab a transport from the garrison. No sense in daring another run-in with Jabba's thugs.</p><p>She packed up the lightsaber she'd picked up from its hiding spot and slid it in her bag. Luke would think her a liar, and maybe, he would never understand.</p><p>Mara went to Luke's bag and opened it. Would the credits and the weapons be enough? They had to be enough. Her eye slid to the journal. She'd told him to get rid of it, but they'd never discussed the journal past that after the hut. She stretched a hand to take it, dispose of it elsewhere. He wouldn't be safe carrying it with him.</p><p>She stopped.</p><p>But he'd wanted it. He'd packed it himself twice, and she...her lies would sting enough. He'd asked for a good-bye, and she'd been too much of a coward to give it to him, despite all he'd said. He'd have enough reasons to despise her. She didn't want to give him one more.</p><p>Mara pulled her hand back to wipe roughly at her face, sitting back on her heels, regret settling in. He'd despise her, and she could do nothing. Mara swallowed hard. She could stay, wait for it to wear off, wait for him to wake up, and...be in the same situation she'd been in. No, that was no solution. </p><p>She went to her bag, opening it. Her lightsaber glinted, the scant light reflecting off it's casing. It was the height of lunacy. She'd miss it, might have need for it. Her master. He hadn't asked to see it since he'd given it to her, but he might someday. What would she even say? Would she get reprimanded? Her hand closed on the hilt. If Luke was found with it, it'd be even more dangerous than the journal. Detainment, for certain. Death.</p><p>Mara turned it over. He'd saved her life with it. She could see herself in front of him at the hut, watching his face fill with wonder as he studied the handgrip. </p><p>And now he would wake, find her gone, and think everything had been a lie. Setting her teeth, Mara shoved her lightsaber into his bag, turned, and grabbed her duffel before she could change her mind. She didn't let herself look back as she stepped out, the door sliding shut behind her.</p><p>--</p><p>A few hours later, she was orbiting the cracked yellow sphere of Tatooine. She went through her mental task list for the hundredth time. Only one thing left to do. Taking a deep breath, she sank into the Force, reaching towards her master. It was simple, like reaching towards a buzzing connector. </p><p><i>Master?</i> Mara called. <i>My mission is complete. I have obtained the lightsaber you sent me for.</i></p><p>She waited, and soon enough felt a ripple through her awareness. <i>Well done.</i></p><p>Even alone, in the cockpit of her ship, Mara bowed her head, her master's approval blanketing her, and a second it felt soothing in it's familiarity. All too soon, the feeling faded. A dull throbbing pain took it's place, searing under her ribs. She could push it aside. She'd been doing that all morning. </p><p>
  <i>Shall I continue to the Imperial Center to hand it to you personally, my lord?</i>
</p><p><i>No. You will go to the Corellian Industrial Cluster, where you will turn it over to Lord Vader at Cymoon 1. </i> </p><p>Vader? The mention of him jolted her. Why would her master ask her to hand the lightsaber over to Vader? Would the dark lord use it to find its owner? She was in no position to ask.</p><p><i>As you wish.</i> Her vision grew fuzzy for a moment, her body feeling heavy with exhaustion. Mara squashed the feeling down, knowing her master had felt it, regardless. He would ask if she were well like he had last time.</p><p><i> You are to deal with Overseer Aggadeen and examine whether the assault at Weapons Factory Alpha was due to negligence or treason. Further data has been sent.</i> </p><p>She reached for her datapad automatically. <i>Confirmed.</i></p><p>
  <i>Go, then.</i>
</p><p>Mara felt the connection cut off.  He hadn't asked. That was good, right? He hadn't sensed her floundering.</p><p>Or maybe he had and didn't care.</p><p>No, she told the voice. Shut up.</p><p>You have no one, it continued anyway. Duty. Only duty. Duty until you die.</p><p>Mara looked at her chrono. The hypnotic should have worn off. El should be getting a comm from the nurse she contracted. Would he rebuff it? What if Jabba's people tracked him? What if the credits weren't enough? What if some stormtrooper found the lightsaber? It'd be <i>her</i> fault -- that desperation clawed up her throat, filling up her eyes, but she was done. Done, she thought, wiping her eyes roughly. Done. </p><p>El had done fine without her. He'd leave this place and start over. </p><p> He'd be happy, and she'd... she'd have her duty.</p><p>Duty until you die. Mara stayed very still, battling the temptation to cover her face with her hands. She stared sightlessly through the viewport, conceding only the press of her fingers on the panel. So what did it matter if she were to airlock herself out? Or that the next mission might go as wrong as this one almost had?  What did <i>anything</i> matter anyway. Nothing had changed. Nothing would <i>ever</i> change. Not for her.</p><p> There'd only be the cold of space.</p><p>Mara shook herself. She was being selfish. Disgustingly weak and selfish. A spoiled child.</p><p>She had the now, the coming mission. She didn't know much about WF Alpha, only that it was the largest Imperial weapons factory and that it was fully automated. After she'd finished her business there, she'd return to the Imperial Center and deal with ISB. They'd been a problem for far too long. She'd known that. All that corruption only spawned enemies, called into question all the Empire stood for. They needed to be dealt with.</p><p>For her master's sake. For her own.</p><p>Mara took a breath and began to input the calculations for her jump.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0032"><h2>32. Chapter 32</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>SIX MONTHS LATER</p>
<p></p><div class="textMsg">
  <p>From: Captain Briera, Imperial-class Star Destroyer Adjudicator, Shadola sector<br/>
To: Central Commander Sollaine, ISB, Imperial Center</p>
  <p>Open transmission…<br/>
Loading…<br/>
Loading…</p>
  <p>Prisoner 6569978-6739X: Could I have a glass of water? I already told you everything I know. </p>
  <p>Interviewer 487WR: You're ready to speak then. Start at the beginning. Your name for the record.</p>
  <p>Prisoner 6569978-6739X: It's only a glass of water. I don't -- I don't feel well.</p>
  <p>Interviewer 487WR: After you answer my questions. Or would you rather talk to the interrogation droid again?</p>
  <p>Prisoner 6569978-6739X: No. No.</p>
  <p>Interviewer 487WR: Remember, I can't help you if you don't tell me the truth. Your name.</p>
  <p>Prisoner 6569978-6739X: Mara Jade.</p>
  <p>Interviewer 487WR: Good. Was that so hard? Now -- where are the credits confiscated from the Son-Tuul Pride? </p>
  <p>[Silence]</p>
  <p>Interviewer 487WR: You know of the classified attack. Where are the credits? We've been through this many times already. We have your confession on record.</p>
  <p>[Silence]</p>
  <p>Interviewer 487WR: Shall I bring in the IT-0 unit?</p>
  <p>Prisoner 6569978-6739X: Mygeeto. They're in an account at Mygeeto. At a subsidiary of the Bank of Aargau-- I can give you the number and security code...</p>
  <p>[Interview paused 03:24:46]</p>
  <p>[Interview resumed 08:58:02]</p>
  <p>Interviewer 487WR: Do you know why we brought in the IT-0? Answer.

</p>
  <p>Prisoner 6569978-6739X:[inaudible] Yes, yes.</p>
  <p>Interviewer 487WR: We've verified that there is no such account at the InterGalactic Trust. Now, where are the credits?</p>
  <p>Prisoner 6569978-6739X: I -- I told you ever-everything. I don't know. I don't know.</p>
  <p>Interviewer 487WR: Ms. Jade, we are tired of going in circles. I was told you intended to cooperate.</p>
  <p>Prisoner 6569978-6739X: Told you the truth already. Don't know. I--was invest--igating, and I hadn't-- hadn't any leads. All [crosstalk].</p>
  <p>Interviewer 487WR: Investigating? Is this before or after your association with the Crymorah? </p>
  <p>[Silence]</p>
  <p>Interviewer 487WR: Your accounts are rife with inconsistencies, Ms. Jade. </p>
  <p>Prisoner 6569978-6739X: Don't feel well. </p>
  <p>Interviewer 487WR: How did you learn of the Son-Tuul's pacification? Where are the credits?</p>
  <p>Prisoner 6569978-6739X: The Emperor -- he sent Vader. Their headquarters...destroyed but the credits -- gone. Someone -- someone s-stole them. I don't feel well. Please, don't [crosstalk].</p>
  <p>Interviewer 487WR: The Emperor again? Of course, because you are his agent. The Emperor's Hand. Is that it?</p>
  <p>[Silence]</p>
  <p>Interviewer 487WR: You are not an Imperial agent. You are a member of the Crymorah Syndicate and a thief [crosstalk]. </p>
  <p>Prisoner 6569978-6739X: I am not! All I've told you and you -- you don't believe me! Don't believe anything I say. What do I say? I can't --I don't know. I don't know. What is happening [inaudible].</p>
  <p>Interviewer 487WR: How did you slice into the main Imperial Security Database? </p>
  <p>Prisoner 6569978-6739X: I had clearance. </p>
  <p>Interviewer 487WR: From the Emperor. Clearance from the Emperor. </p>
  <p>Prisoner 6569978-6739X: Yes. Hap[crosstalk].</p>
  <p>Interviewer 487WR: There are no records of such clearance anywhere. Nothing. Allow me to remind you we have your confession on record, Ms. Jade.</p>
  <p>Prisoner 6569978-6739X: That wasn't -- I don't -- It's all a mistake! You've no right to do this! I told you [inaudible].</p>
  <p>Interviewer 487WR: I am trying to be patient, Ms. Jade, but if you will not cooperate, I'll be forced to call for the IT-0 unit however many times until you do.</p>
  <p>Prisoner 6569978-6739X: No! Please. I've told you --</p>
  <p>Transmission closed.</p>
</div><p>--</p>
<p>Lieutenant Ventfor turned to Captain Briera after the screen had gone black.</p>
<p> "I don't think we can extract anything from her, Captain. Even if she does know something, the fever would make it an issue. This was last night. She's probably doing worse today." </p>
<p>“The cuffs wound?”</p>
<p>“Seems so according to Commander Sandul.” </p>
<p>Briera grimaced. Ventfor wasn't sure if it was about the information he'd relayed or the mention of the <i> Adjudicator's </i> assigned ISB officer. "Well, at least she isn't drooling and gibbering anymore. Or is she? Did he send the IT-0 in again?" </p>
<p>Ventfor nodded. "She spent the last two sessions screaming for the Emperor. Commander Sandul maintains it's the same instability she had even before she was detained. A longstanding personality disorder." </p>
<p>Briera grunted and gave him a skeptical look. Ventfor raised his eyebrows slightly. They both had seen enough IT-0 interventions to know delusions and hallucinations were par for the course. This prisoner had virtually walked into their arms at Anthan Prime nearly two weeks ago, bearing classified information and spitting out fake security codes. Upon detainment, she'd been idiosyncratic in that the first IT-0 visit had to be cut short when she suffered a tonic-clonic seizure and lost consciousness for a day. Successive sessions hadn't been able to resume until several days later.</p>
<p>Given that profile, Ventfor was still surprised she'd been more or less coherent in subsequent interviews, but that wasn't all. At some point during an  IT-0 visit near a week ago, she'd lacerated her arm with the edge of the cuffs during a spasm, not an uncommon injury at a medium dosage, but she kept finding ways to put pressure on the wound, keeping it raw no matter how she was restrained. Someone had made the mistake of sending her to the infirmary for a round of antibiotics after the wound inevitably contracted an infection, and she'd somehow managed to incapacitate a stormtrooper before fainting.</p>
<p>So clearly criminals were getting more specialized in this part of the galaxy, but that didn't mean Sandul was more than shooting at shadows as far as the girl was concerned. The recordings made it clear she had no information of value for the investigation. Had Sandul been a sensible sort, the girl would have been executed a week ago. The failed escape attempt more than warranted it, but no one could accuse ISB men of being <i>sensible</i>.</p>
<p> "Well, we did our due diligence," Briera returned. He looked at the chrono. "Coruscant doesn't want her, right?" </p>
<p>“No. Commander Sandul says they have other leads. He recommends we dispose of her. Captain, did that supply shuttle finally come in?" </p>
<p>Briera nodded. "It just showed up on our sensors a few minutes ago. I'll have Coruscant hear about it. We can't have some data pusher make changes to the route and kark up our schedule. General Tagge will be very displeased with the delay." </p>
<p> "I'll have our men make up for the lost time." Ventfor straightened. </p>
<p> "Do that." Briera's eyes settled on his blinking comm.</p>
<p> "And Captain? What of the prisoner?" </p>
<p> "Slate her for execution. But see to that shuttle first. We're behind schedule as it is." </p>
<p> "Yes, Captain," Ventfor turned, making his way to the hangar bay.  </p>
<p>A junior lieutenant and an ensign were deep in conversation in front of the shuttle as techs and ground crew and droids bustled about.</p>
<p> "It's not really bounty hunting. More like being in the know. It's like that thing the small-time organizations do now," the ensign was saying, loud enough for Ventfor to hear several paces away. "Say Black Sun wants Crymorah middle management out of their hair. But the Crymorah know, they've been enemies for a long time, so there's no element of surprise, right? That's where the little guys come in—unaffiliated small-timers. No one knows them, so they keep their head down, keep their ears open. One day they surprise the vigo, grab him for the big timers. They don't kill him, though. They comm it in -- for a price." </p>
<p>The junior lieutenant was so absorbed in the tale, he didn't notice Ventfor, who frowned as he neared. The junior lieutenant should be paying more attention to the shuttle's unloading, not socializing. </p>
<p> "They make sure the vigo is easy prey. They cripple him," the ensign continued. "Leave him limping in a dark alley or something," he laughed. "Big-timers want the bastard dead, right? They want to send a message, want the bragging rights for the kill shot, the turf, what's in his pockets -- but without the risk of the other guy getting the drop on them. So these small-time players, they eat the risk without the bragging rights, without the fame. It's not direct, see? <i>They're</i> not the ones pulling the trigger. That's one of the ways they keep a low profile, make their credits, and get those who know not to fuck with--" </p>
<p>Ventfor cleared his throat loudly. "I trust you made clear that we are on a tight schedule." </p>
<p>The junior lieutenant almost jumped but recovered quickly. "Yes, sir. The security team is doing their check." He gestured to the stormtroopers exiting the shuttle. "There they are." One of the troopers made an all-clear sign, the trooper beside him noticeably below height standards. Carida was growing disturbingly lax with their recruits these days. </p>
<p> "How long will it take?" he asked the junior lieutenant.</p>
<p> "About an hour. They're going as fast as they can." The junior lieutenant scanned his datapad, finally deciding it was time to oversee the various techs. Ventfor glanced around the hangar, people and maintenance droids moving cargo to and from the shuttle. "Where did the security team go?" </p>
<p>The junior lieutenant gave a distracted look around. "I'm not sure. Should be close by." </p>
<p> "Lieutenant," Ventfor scolded, "I expect you to uphold more discipline." </p>
<p> "Apologies, sir. I'll--I'll find them right away," he said, slinking off.</p>
<p>Too much time away from civilized space made officers too sanguine about protocol -- in this, Ventfor grudgingly agreed with Sandul. Perhaps he should suggest the Captain order more drills.</p>
<p>His comm sounded. "We have reports of a disturbance in the detention area," came a vocoder voice.</p>
<p> "What kind of disturbance?" </p>
<p> "We're not sure what's happening. Sounded like shots fired. We've lost contact with them. Just dispatched a security team." </p>
<p>Ventfor turned on his heel, trotting back to the bridge. Captain Briera stood over one of the monitors, a rigid set to his shoulders. </p>
<p>“Any word?”</p>
<p>Briera gestured to the monitor. "We have footage." He turned to the tech. "Play it again for the Lieutenant." </p>
<p> "So we have an identification--" Ventfor stopped as the screen showed -- he leaned forward. A figure wearing a tech uniform, slumped bodies on the deck behind it, but -- "By the stanging Core." It had to be a ruse. The figure turned, profile accessible to the holocamera for a few seconds.  Human, male, the recognition program listed a description, 1.75 meters, light brown hair...it blared a <i>no match</i> just before a swipe of magenta plasma dissolved the image into static. </p>
<p> "Forward this to Coruscant," Briera ordered the tech. "Now. Addressed it to Commander Sollaine." </p>
<p> No match in identifications meant they were dealing with an intruder. But...</p>
<p> "Out -- out of an overabundance of caution," Briera's voice steadied with each word. "Probably just run off the mill syndicate trash with a penchant for theatrics and an electro sword. Lord Vader personally --" </p>
<p> "Missed one already," Ventfor replied unthinkingly. One in conjunction with those Rebels had taken out the <i>Death Star</i>. What could this intruder want attacking the officers at the detention command center? "If he's --" </p>
<p>“No ifs,” Briera shot back. "There is no reason to believe there is another Jedi, much less one that one would take an interest in this ship." </p>
<p>The captain was correct, Ventfor told himself. They held no sensitive material and this Outer Rim sector wasn't an important one for the Rebels. An attack from anyone other than a criminal organization in search of loot and notoriety didn't make sense.</p>
<p> "Search team on detention block 345 reporting," one of the squadron leaders was patched in. "All dead. Prisoner 6569978-6739X is not in her cell," informed the stormtrooper commander on the intercom.</p>
<p> Briera shared a look with Ventfor. "Do a tight sweep of the whole level and hangar areas." </p>
<p> "It's unlikely the girl can walk in her state," Ventfor added. So that's what the intruder wanted, but why? The girl hadn't seemed anyone of importance. "Should be easy to gain on." </p>
<p>"You're certain?" Briera's head snapped in his direction. "She was supposedly infirm last time too."</p>
<p>Ventfor opened his mouth to note the difference given the last biometrics when another comm officer raised his voice, "Captain, engineering is reporting a firefight." </p>
<p> "Engineering?" Briera echoed. Of course, Ventfor thought, it'd have to be more than one. "Divert half of the search team there. Detention's a decoy. It's too close to engineering not to be." He shot Ventfor a puzzled look. "But I would think they'd target the armory. What do they want at engineering rather than armory?" </p>
<p>Ventfor found himself at a loss. Criminals were a highly unimaginative lot. Usually, their aim was to steal weapons they could later sell on the black market somewhere. </p>
<p> "They must have hijacked the supply shuttle," Ventfor murmured. The criminal element here had gotten too bold as of late. General Tagge was right to mount a sustained campaign to reign them in -- reportedly, the Emperor himself had dispatched Lord Vader to help, but that was cold comfort now. </p>
<p>After a few seconds, one of the squadron leaders spoke through the comm. "Captain, we just received reports of dead troopers outside the hyperdrive chamber. The hatch is locked from the inside. We will try to force it open." </p>
<p>An engineering officer from the bridge spoke up. "There's a second hatch that leads out to the main corridor. A team is on its way to block off that route. We don't have a visual on them. They must be on their way out." </p>
<p>Briera gave a curt nod. "Status of the detention level teams?" </p>
<p>A shake nearly threw him off his feet -- cries rising up from the bridge crew. </p>
<p> "What the kark was that?" the Captain shouted as several alarms blared in the background. </p>
<p> "There's been some sort of detonation on the hangar level," one of the officers called. He paused, a hand on his earpiece. "The supply shuttle. It's gone." </p>
<p>The captain looked at Ventfor. A flood of maintenance personnel would be heading down as part of standard operating procedure. The intruders were probably heading in that direction, too.</p>
<p> "Hangar blast doors sealed to vent out the smoke," the comm tech announced. </p>
<p>The captain continued, "Good. Only security teams will be allowed inside." </p>
<p>A crackle from the comm, the squadron leader at engineering reported, "Captain we're inside the hyperdrive chamber. They've rigged it with explosives. Countdown set to thirty minutes." </p>
<p> "What?" Briera blanched. "Send an engineering team to disarm them now!" </p>
<p> "That's how they're getting into the hangar," Ventfor put in over the clench of his stomach. "We'll probably get a hail soon with their terms. Realistically, they wouldn't be able to escape a tractor beam even if they managed to hijack a ship. We'll have to play along until engineering can disarm the charges." </p>
<p> "They can't be at the hangar yet. It's just a matter of identifying them," Briera thundered. "What of the detention level teams? Have they found the intruder? What is taking them so long?" </p>
<p> "No response," the squadron leader informed through the line.</p>
<p> "Status report on the hangar, then." </p>
<p>There was a minute of static, and a hoarse voice finally broke through. "Air quality low." The officer coughed. "Visibility low." </p>
<p> "Keep an eye out, we've sent several squadrons--" </p>
<p>A crashing sound and the unmistakable sounds of blaster fire pierced the air. </p>
<p> "They're here!" came another voice at a distance. It’s -- it’s six of them--” </p>
<p>More blaster fire, much closer this time.</p>
<p>The line went dead.</p>
<p> "Officer?" Ventfor found himself calling. "Officer?" He stared at the captain. "How could they--" </p>
<p> "Report from engineering," the team leader went on without a pause, "we cannot disarm these charges." </p>
<p> "Projected damage?" Briera's composure broke briefly, alarm visible on his face for a few seconds. How could the situation have unraveled so fast?</p>
<p> "Not sure," the voice said shakily. "We'll -- we'll be left with only our sublights, sir. And a secondary explosion might take out part of those, too. All of the aft portions of the ship must be evacuated." </p>
<p> "Sound the alarm," Briera said. "Get yourself and everyone out." </p>
<p>Just the thought of explaining this turn of events to Coruscant made Ventfor nauseous. There were whispers of what had happened to the <i>Adjudicator's</i> last captain.</p>
<p> "We're getting a hail," one of the comm officers called out. </p>
<p>And to be stranded here where they'd be easy prey to whatever marauding bottom-feeders happened upon them...</p>
<p>Briera gestured for the comm officer to open the line.  The comm crackled and a heavily accented voice filtered through, "Time to get tractor beam disabled, eh?" </p>
<p> Non-human, Ventfor decided, trying to place the accent. Bocce? No.</p>
<p> "Captain," one of the officers called. "Detonation in twenty minutes." </p>
<p>Briera said firmly, "Strand us now, and you'll be dealt with more severely once you are caught." </p>
<p> "I make easy for you," the voice rumbled, and Ventfor recognized the accent now. Huttese.  The language of criminals. "Only hyperdrive, you thought? No, a little extra in engine compartment B2X. Not strand. Destroy your ship." </p>
<p> "You wouldn't dare," Briera seethed, but Ventfor felt himself grow cold. <i>Could</i> they have rigged an engine compartment in addition to the hyperdrive? "You'd die with us." </p>
<p>“Fifteen minutes.”</p>
<p> "We die anyway in your cell," the voice said blithely. "Die with you not so bad." </p>
<p> "Any teams down there able to report?" Briera called. "Confirm whether this is a tall tale?" </p>
<p> "Negative," one of the comm officers replied. "Everyone's already out." </p>
<p> "Escort boat 3275  --" came a staticky voice. "Two Nikto went in and a Weequay, three human outside. They're loading a body into the ship from a tools and parts antigrav pallet --" More blaster fire.</p>
<p> "Stand down," Briera yelled into the comm.</p>
<p>“Ten minutes.”</p>
<p> "You disable tractor beam," came that thickly accented voice. "Smaller explosion. No one dies. You hunt us later if you like." </p>
<p>Briera looked straight ahead. </p>
<p>"Captain? They're lifting off."</p>
<p>They could be lying, Ventfor allowed himself to think, they probably were lying. </p>
<p>
  <i>But if they weren’t?</i>
</p>
<p>"Five minutes."</p>
<p> "Disable the tractor beam," Briera pushed through his teeth, watching the ship shoot out into deep space. "Make no mistake, scum," he growled. "We will find you, and when we do, you will pay dearly." </p>
<p>There was no answer, only the ship growing smaller and -- a violent shake ripped through the ship, tossing people and machinery to the deck. To Ventfor, it seemed to go on forever, the lights blinking erratically, the bridge plunging into darkness and silence. When he looked at the viewscreen, the escort boat was gone. With the ticking of seconds, the systems blinked shakily back on.</p>
<p> "Status report," Briera barked as the power came back on.</p>
<p> "Hyperdrive disabled, sublights at sixty percent," the comm officer announced. Ventfor took a look at the sensorboard with a sinking feeling as the officers reported their status at the various stations. They'd be limping along for a while.</p>
<p> "Find the nearest fleet," Briera ordered after the near-endless parade of updates was done. "Tell them we are in need of assistance." He turned to Ventfor. "If it's someone of confidence, we might be able to handle this problem without involving Coruscant." </p>
<p>Ventfor nodded, trying to summon some optimism. In that case, it would simply be embarrassing, not career-ending, or worse. "That would be preferable, although General Tagge--" </p>
<p> "Captain," another comm officer called, "unknown vessels emerging from hyperspace." </p>
<p>Ventfor watched as two large freighters materialized before them, his jaw clenching tight. They neared at surprising speed, drawing so close the Son-Tuul Pride's chevron design at their side was visible. </p>
<p>"We're being hailed."</p>
<p>Briera licked his lips, his shoulders as rigid as they'd been when Ventfor first arrived at the bridge. "Put them through." </p>
<p> "Imperial Star Destroyer." Undoubtedly feminine, the hooligan's Basic was stained by all those greasy melding vowels of Huttese. "You're looking a little...lonely." Ventfor's stomach sank as he saw the panels slide back on the ships' hulls. Proton torpedo launchers aimed at them. "Maybe we can help."

</p>
<p>--</p>
<p></p><div class="textMsg">
  <p>From: Captain Briera, Imperial-class Star Destroyer Adjudicator, Shadola sector<br/>
To: Central Commander Sollaine, ISB, Imperial Center</p>
  <p>Open transmission…<br/>
Loading…<br/>
Loading… </p>
</div> <p>end.</p>
<p><span class="small"><span class="small">
    <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XHawwct9TW4">
final credits
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  <span class="small">Some further blathering about the end <a href="https://teagrl.tumblr.com/post/644648040194555904/yay-burn-up-my-heels-is-done-oh-no-frangi-why-so">here</a></span>
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  <span class="small">Little did I know when I floated the idea maybe two years ago? as a <i>joke</i>, that I would sit down and hack it out as my 2020 project/obsession, but it gave me so much simple enjoyment in such a deeply challenging time, I was seduced. </span>
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  <span class="small">Nevertheless, this fic would have definitely stalled as a plot bunny without my longtime friend, strangeallure who enabled, encouraged, hand held, and beta-ed. Given how tumultuous these past two years have been it's a miracle that this fic got written, much less posted. Writing might be the worst hobby  ^_~  but it continues to be one of my bestest best lives. </span>
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  <span class="small"> Thank you for reading! &lt;3
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